Phoenix Rising
by TheOtherLachance
Summary: Sequel to Child of Sithis. Phoenix is a young, orphaned acrobat who can't remember his past. Who are the strange people that seem to be following him? What is his past... and what is his future? Read Child of Sithis first or this won't make sense.
1. The Circus

!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!  
THIS IS A SEQUEL TO MY FIC CHILD OF SITHIS. THIS WILL NOT MAKE ANY SENSE AT ALL IF YOU DON'T READ THAT FIRST, NOT EVEN THIS CHAPTER AS A ONE-SHOT. EVERYONE WHO READ CHILD OF SITHIS, WELCOME BACK! I KNOW PHOENIX USED TO BE 13, BUT HE IS NOW 14 FOR... UH... REASONS. ENJOY!

"The Phoenix Bird, with emerald eyes,  
Circles dark and misty skies,  
Red as flames is it's coat,  
Soft crimson plumage at it's throat,  
It cannot die, the Phoenix creature,  
And this is one fantastic feature,  
When it dies, or feels too much pain,  
The Phoenix Bird will arise again..." It was night in Solitude. A dark Summer's night: warm and inviting and pleasant. Stars glimmered in the evening sky, and music and the sound of voices filled the air. Anybody who was anybody in Solitude had come to the circus... The Circunse de Avis was wellknown throughout the whole of Tamriel, and for good reason. Every man, woman and child who came to watch the acrobats, jesters, magicians, animal tamers, and fighters... They certainly got their money's worth. It was a magical night: bright red torches lit up the place, and a huge crowd was already gathered around a make-shift stage just outside of the city gates. A wooden stage with shabby, velvet curtains, with a man in a scarlet tunic and bird mask taking the stage. Everyone's eyes were upon him as, in the background, mysteriously people paraded in exotic bird costumes: beautiful to the eye, as he spoke and introduced.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Men and Mer, Children and Elders, may I introduce you to... THE CIRCUNSE DE AVIS!" cheers filled the city, as the acrobats began to set up their tightropes and trapezes, dancing all the while. The odd little Ringleader continued, arms flung out wide, as he quieted the screaming cloud with a yell. They all silenced, and then gasped as, out of nowhere, a great scroll appeared in his hands in a puff of smoke. He flourished his hands and pulled it open wide, giving the crowd a knowing grin. "Today, for your pleasure and enjoyment, we have our brilliant performers! And all they want is to please you!"

More cheers, as the swell of the crowd threatened to overwhelm... The Ringleader, expecting a riot, laughed, and waved them back. Miraculously, they backed off, and readied themselves to scream for their favourite act. And for most of them, it was Phoenix. For he, truly, was a magician of acrobatics: the way he manipulated his body, the way he practically flew through the air, the way he looked like a ball of fire! The crowd loved him; they loved the other acts, but none were as fantastic as the Phoenix Bird! "First we have the mystical, the magical, the fantastic..." the Bosmer ringleader paused like a true charlatan. Then, with a huge, crazed bow, he cried, "Runar the Magnificent!" a huge flame lit up the square, and the crowd gasped as, out of thin air, a great Altmer appeared, sitting in mid-air. They shrieked their approval, as the man levitated himself, smiling and nodding his head majestically; however, his cheer was not huge, and soon enough he bowed one last time, and ducked down. More acts were intoduced this way: the Witty Jester Hilario; the troupe of acrobats known only as the Shadow-Children; the huge giant wrestlers; the Redguard man who trained Sabre Tooth cats and wolves; the dancers and, finally, the one they'd all been waiting for...

"My friends, may I introduce you to..." you could have cut the tension in the air with a knife as the crowd leaned forwards, eyes wide, and stared at the small Bosmer dominating the stage, waiting for the name... "The Phoenix Bird!" huge cheers exploded from their lips, and the cheering did not stop as a youth wearing claret, ragged trousers and a red birds mask with a long amber beak and a mane of vibrant red hair, somersaulted out onto the stage. The confidence came off him in waves, as he took a deep bow then, as one of the trapeze artists swung forwards, caught hold of her leg, and swung himself up on top of the bar, where he stood, soaking in the praise of the crowd. He took another bow and then, with a snap of his fingers, a cloud of black smoke appeared, engulfing him. And as the smoke disappeared, he too was gone! The night was torn apart with yells, catcalls, wolf-whistles, and shrieks of adoration. The Ringleader was having trouble controlling the crowd as, he began to introduce the first act to go on that night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Phoenix wiped some of the sweat off his forehead, breathing deeply as his green eyes followed the dancers on stage. It was a warm night, and his heavy mask made him sweat like a pig. He had a half an hour till his act, but he liked to make sure that he was always there on time. It wouldn't do for the great Phoenix Bird to be late. Peeling the mask away from his pale face, he adjusted his wig and pushed away strands of white blond hair that were poking through. Most folks thought he was a red-head, hence the whole Phoenix thing, so he wore a wig. He couldn't exactly be a blond fire bird, now could he?

"Ay, Phoenix, get away from the stage. The acrobats are coming through in a minute, and you need to be out of the way." the grumpy voice of Hilario the "jester" met his ears. It was rather amusing that Hilario was possibly the least funny person in the troupe, probably because he spent most of his time sitting in his tent smoking a skooma pipe and drinking ale. The stupid Imperial liked to lecture everyone for hours on end about the days when he was a proper court jester in Cyrodiil. Most of his jokes didn't make sense to Phoenix, but Hilario almost wet himself laughing when he compared Titus Mede to a donkey...? Turning around, the fake red-haired crossed his arms and gave the paunchy man with too much makeup a hard look.

"I am an acrobat." Phoenix's voice was low for his 14 years, but somehow had an almost girlish, sultry, mocking tone to it. Boys his age made fun of him for being a little feminine looking, especially the youths who cleared up the stage after a show, but it didn't bother the young acrobat. He had never been attracted to boys, and he'd seen them staring at his body whenever he was in his costume. Most people did, though, and most seemed to forget he was only 14. He looked older, bordering 15, but that may have just been the stage makeup that all performers, even male, were forced to wear.

"Yeah, but you ain't part of the Shadow-Children, are you? Get down under the stage out of sight, or I'll give you a fucking beating, kid. Go on!" the clown spat back at him. Phoenix chuckled, knowing that it was an empty threat, and jumped down onto the grass behind the wooden platform and the velvet curtains that hid the performers backstage who were doing certain... things. He saw two members of the Shadow-Children backed up against the city walls, kissing unshamedly, and Charco the animal tamer was toying with one of the dancers, pretending to feed her to one of his sabre-tooth cats. The boy snorted at their play, and walked towards his tent, skirting around a group of dancers practising their act; softly resting his hand on a particularly attractive (and air-headed) Breton woman dancer who didn't notice for a second then, feeling the pressure, slapped his hand away with a mock look of disgust on her face. He laughed, permitted her to cuff him round the head, before he continued his journey towards his canvas home, almost tripping over a drunk stage hand as he went.

His tent was small, grubby, and cramped too, as he shared it with two other boys. Phoenix had lived in this tent since he was four years old, and when Mercury and Thorn came along, he'd been almost annoyed that he didn't have the place to himself anymore. Mercury, who was 17, was a muscular stage hand and Thorn, who was 14 and tiny, was part of the Shadow-Children. The blond youth hadn't liked them much at first (mostly because they took up HIS space), but the three boys had developed a bond, over time. However, Phoenix would still not say no to having his own tent again... Pulling one of the flaps open, he found the cramped place empty, and threw himself down on his bedroll. It was uncomfortable and, as the shows best-loved star, Phoenix had hoped that he might get more comfortable living quarters, but apparently not. Someday, when he was rich, he'd start up his own troupe, and live in a carriage like Mitrai, the Ringleader... All that space, for one elf, and whichever of the dancers the man was having in his bed that night. Ridiculous. Phoenix would invite every single attractive PERSON in the whole troupe to share it with him. Although he was more into women.

The youth could hear the screams of the crowd already, from his tent, and lay back his head against the pillow with a contented sigh. Pulling his mask off, he threw it on the grassy floor next to him, and breathed in some of the fresh air. It was deliciously cool, away from the torches and bustling cluster of people. Yanking off his wig, he shook out his shoulder length platinum blond hair and let it fan out on his pillow. With a smile, he rubbed his cheeks, and savoured the few minutes before he had to put his costume back on and go out and perform. He loved performing, the roar of the punters, the way they screamed his name, the way the air flew past his face as the marvel on people's faces shone out at him... But it was nice to relax on his own, with no Thorn or Mercury to clog up his space. He luxuriated for fifteen minutes, then was roused by a light giggle. Opening his eyes lazily, he saw a girl of about his age smirking at him, eyebrows raised. Sylvia, one of the younger dancers, who was his personal "harpy" as he jokingly put it.

"Why do I always find you posing? I think it's personal." she teased, kicking at his spread-eagled form. He laughed, and Sylvia extended a hand to help him up. "I'm meant to be rehearsing, too, and you waste my time making me drag you up... Mitrai said you have to go up."  
"What?" he frowned at his friend, scooping up his wig and mask off the floor. "It's only been fifteen minutes, Via! Damn it, can't I have any rest at all?" "Of course not... for you are..." she paused dramatically and then, doing a superb impression of Mitrai's faux Imperial accent, cried, "The Phoenix Bird!". A pause. Then, "Let me do your wig, idiot, you're messing it up..."

He stood still for a few moments while she adjusted the red mane so it completely covered his hair, and strapped his mask on over the top so it wouldn't fall off. After a couple of minutes, satisfied with her work, she pushed the mask up and took a stick of kohl out of her pocket. Seeing the little black stick, he backed away, shaking his head, mouth open.

"No way am I wearing kohl." he said, in a voice so panicked that it sounded like a small child's. A moment more of silence, and then they both burst out laughing. For a few seconds they laughed and then, before Phoenix was even aware what was happening, she'd tackled him to the ground and was straddling his waist, with an evil gleam in her eye. "Alright, boy, hold still..." she lowered the kohl to his squirming face, and began to outline his left eye. He struggled a little more but then, realising that it was hopeless, he stopped and lay back and let Sylvia do his makeup. The minutes went by agonizingly slowly as she outlined his eyes dark black, enjoying the feel of their bodies pressed together despite herself. Eventually, when she decided his eyes looked smoky enough, she pulled the mask back down over his face. Then, slowly, she tipped her head on one side.

"What?" he said, trying to push her off him, and failing. Her foot was pressing his wrist to the floor, with not enough pressure to make it painful, but enough to keep him pinned to the floor. He was strong, and could overpower her usually, but wasn't quite sure he wanted to move. He liked the Imperial dancer quite a bit, and he wasn't going to say no to her sitting on him. "I said what?"  
"Just thinking..." his heart sped up, and he heard footsteps outside the tent. Slowly getting up, she turned his back on him, swishing her hair. He looked after her, and raised his eyebrows. "Just thinking... what?" Phoenix's stomach was full of butterflies as he grabbed her shoulder, and tried to turn her around to face him, but she shrugged him off. As footsteps got closer and closer she sighed, and shrugged. "I find you much more attractive as a bird."

And with one last giggle at his expense, she skipped off to finish rehearsing, leaving him dumbfounded. Mitrai was shouting that he was on stage in 5 minutes, but he was staring after the girl, mouth open, eyebrows raised. How could he fall for a cheap trick like that? Shaking his head and smirking to himself, he made his way up the hill, ignoring the bouncing Bosmer, and towards the stage. He had his act to do and not even Sylvia would stop him from doing that... Maybe he'd bring a couple of the fangirls into his tent, just to show her. She'd be floored! Planning out his revenge with a wicked gleam in his eyes, he jumped up into the wings, and waited for Runar to get off the stage. The Altmer really wasn't too bad: the crowd seemed to be enjoying him at least, even though Phoenix knew what he did was just cheap parlour tricks... Well, if they were liking Runar, than they'd be loving him!

Eventually, when the High Elf disappeared in a cloud of smoke to quite some applause, Phoenix readied himself. He could see the stage hands were setting up his tightrope, and the trapeze was in his hand; he was ready to swing in. He felt pressure on his back and turned around, to see Mercury attaching a pair of golden, metal wings to his back, pulling the straps over his shoulders. With a frown, the youth said, "What're they for?"  
"Mitrai reckoned they'd enhance the whole bird thing you got going." Mercury finished adjusting them and then, giving him a thumbs up, stepped backwards. "On you go. Good luck, Nix."

The rabble had fallen into a hush, waiting for the act they had been waiting for all night. Phoenix could feel his heart beating in anticipation as, hooking his hands around the trapeze, he stepped up towards the stage. Then, taking a running leap as he heard the drums begin to sound, signalling his enter, he swung onto stage. Tumultuous applause rang out: people were screaming with delight as, for a few moments, he swung back and forth, doing multiple flips over the bars. He could hear the roar of the crowd and the roar of rushing air in his ears as, aiming carefully, he gracefully leapt to the ground, and landed on a block. Holding up his arms, he bowed, and played up for all he was worth: catching kisses that were blown, striking poses, and waving, before, leaping backwards, he swung himself over the tightrope and onto it. Phoenix was joyful, and felt like he truly was on fire: every time he went on stage, he felt this feeling of elation! He began to perform tricks on the wire; walking along it on his hands, doing the splits on it until, eventually, he caught a trapeze that Mercury pushed at him backstage, and began to fly again, before leaping off with several somersaults in mid-air, to land on the tightrope again. The crowd went wild as the music turned into a crescendo as, jumping down from the wire, he rolled towards the front of the stage, and began to flip backwards and, with the last flip, threw himself into the air, and caught the trapeze again and swinging backwards and forwards. The applause was so loud he thought it might burst his eardrums, before he performed a few more tricks.

His routine was now nearly done. The handsome youth could not make out faces from the crowd, but pretended he could, blowing kisses in random directions and waving to certain people (who he couldn't see because of the light shining on his face) and then, cartwheeling backwards, he did a flip to land back on the block, and bowed low. Flowers and many other things were being thrown at him as he basked in the applause and then, as Mitrai came strutting onto stage, he pulled off his mask and stood, arms held wide, to recieve more applause, as people wolf-whistled at his goodlooking, sweat drenched face. The kohl that lined his eyes was running slightly, but, struggling to keep his face deadpan, he bowed one last time, and cartwheeled off stage into the wings, where he bent over, breathing hard.

"Good show, kid," he looked up, and saw Charco grinning at him, and smiled back, pulling his wig off and throwing it onto the floor. The Redguard laughed, and slapped him on the shoulder, indicating a well done. "They love you." and, as he faced the crowd, Phoenix agreed entirely.

THEY LOVED HIM.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Well! The first chapter of Phoenix Rising is finally out! Sorry for the wait: I've only had a week to plan this completely, and this chapter, although short, took me a while because it's the first. This is something of an epilogue: this story has more action and less soap-opera, but some good soap-opera in there too! Thank you so much, and reviews are appreciated so much! They are what keeps me going, at the moment._

_Lachance xx_


	2. First Kill's Always the Hardest

!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!  
I HATE SYLVIA MORE AND MORE, AND I'M ONLY ON THE SECOND CHAPTER... I'M NOT KIDDING, THIS WAS INCLUDED IN MY NOTES FOR THE PLAN:  
IMPERIAL BITCH GETS IT.

"Good job, kid. Here's your wage. Go buy something nice." Mitrai always was a man of few words when offstage. His voice, when not performing, seemed almost drab in comparison to his booming tones, and sometimes, Phoenix felt almost sorry for the plump Bosmer man who had little to no talents himself except a large confidence. Usually, the two did not get along (due to their contending ego's) but when the Ringleader was handing out money, the youth always took care to be more pleasant. Last night, they'd performed the show outside Solitude, and the troupe were taking a day to wander round the vast city before packing up and moving on to Whiterun, then Riften, and finally Markarth, before heading back to Cyrodiil. This was their routine: stay a place for a night, the next day go shopping and wander around, stay another night, move on. Then, they took a six month break where Phoenix would scrounge for cash from Mitrai and stay with Thorn and his family. Some of the crew didn't come back for every annual tour, but Phoenix didn't have any other offers; the troupe was one of the last and best in Tamriel. He could always join the Bards College- he was a rather good singer... but he couldn't play anything.

Phoenix walked down the street with Thorn and Mercury by his side, looking at the various stalls full of luxuries, with a lazy smile on his face. It was a beautiful day, with a bright sun and warm air, with little to no breeze. Most people seemed to be walking around in a sleepy haze, mostly staring at him and the rest of the troupe. After last nights performance, they'd been the topic of gossip all throughout the city. "What d'you feel like doing?" he addressed his friends, as they walked under the bridge. Phoenix wasn't sure what to do with himself: on a day like that, all he really wanted to do was sit outside the city and have a picnic or something. However, there were things he needed to buy, and this gleaming jewel of a city was not something to be missed. "I want to buy some presents for my family... If that's alright." replied Thorn, in his pleasantly accented voice. The Nord boy was always more considerate than the other two, and a lot less sure of himself than Phoenix, although smarter than Mercury. They were an interesting trio: Phoenix was the natural leader, although by no means the biggest; Mercury looked too big and thuggish to be the stupid but sweet kid he really was; Thorn was tiny and looked meek, but was deadly if he wanted to be. "What sort of thing?" Phoenix said, stopping. The other two stopped with him, as he pointed a thumb over his shoulder back at the marketplace. "D'you mean the market sort of thing? Because if you do, then we should go back."

The small boy nodded his assent and so, with a shrug, Phoenix followed him back towards the mass of stalls, crowded with people. He could make out most of the troupe, although there were many, many citizens of Solitude too: buying, gossiping, going about their boring, average, everyday lives. It bored Phoenix, sometimes, which was why he had to be an acrobat and have that thrill... Pushing his way through the crowds, he kicked a young pickpocket in the face with contempt. "Watch yourself, brat," he spat, before continuing towards the stalls. Turning around, he saw Thorn and Mercury were beckoning at him, pointing towards a jewellery stand. A plump Argonian woman, heavily made-up, was standing behind the counter, smiling dimly, as she clicked ringed fingers on the counter. Phoenix ducked under the legs of passing strangers, and met them, as the smaller boy started to talk to the woman. He had a pink, beaded bracelet in one hand, and seemed to be bargaining with her. The blond boy slid in next to him, and watched for a few seconds, before feeling a hand on his arm. Turning around, he saw a girl a bit shorter than him standing there, a smile on her tanned face. He smiled, and felt himself blush, as Sylvia grinned at him.

"Hey! Buying jewellery? For a beau?" she said, batting her eyelashes. Fighting to stay confident, Phoenix shrugged bashfully, and shook his head. "No. I'm just waiting for Thorn here to get something for his sister or mother or aunt or grandma or-" he was rambling. He could hear himself rambling and couldn't quite work out why. Which of his parents had given him this trait- idiocy? Fighting to stay cool, he chuckled, and smiled down at her. Her soft brown hair fell to her shoulders in a sleek cut, and he had an urge to stroke it. It was bouncing as she laughed at him. Then, she turned around, and skipped off to find her friends, and he found himself becoming more and more flustered. Why had she come to say hello, asked him if he had a girlfriend, and left? What was the idea? Turning around, he saw his friends falling over laughing, and glared at them, storming off into the crowd in the opposite direction to Sylvia. He would spend the day alone, thanks.

Pride hurt, he wandered towards the docks. He knew if he went down there, he could watch the ships coming in and out of the harbour, and he liked that. He'd been on a boat only once before, and he'd adored the experience: he'd fished, dived, swam... Swimming was, after acrobatics, one of his favourite things to do. The freedom he could feel in the water almost matched the freedom he could feel in the air.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You alright son?" the sound of a Nordic voice brought Phoenix out of his stupor. He'd been sitting on the docks for at least an hour, dangling his bare feet in the cold, salty waves, and staring out to the distance. He turned his head around, and his blond hair swished in his eyes, and he pushed it away to glance at the haggard fisherman behind him. With a brief smile and a nod, he turned back around to stare into the sea once more, but realised that the man was sitting next to him. Almost uncomfortably close, in fact, although it didn't really bother the youth. He went on stage scantily clad, and was used to, after shows, people trying to molest him, so why not this man? It got tiresome, but, consumed with his teenage thoughts, he stared back out to sea. "You're Phoenix, right?"

"Yes." "I'm Destar" "Hello, Destar."

There was an awkward silence. The man opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it, licking his dry lips with his tongue. Phoenix didn't particularly want to engage in conversation with the man. Nobody else was on the docks: the East Empire Company Warehouse didn't seem to be open. It was only the two of them, staring out to sea. Phoenix was feeling a little desperate, although not particularly worried- if he didn't reply, would the man just go away? He knew, from the man's demeanour, that he wanted something, although he wasn't sure whether it was a sexual favour or an autograph. Both were possible. People didn't just... Talk to him. They always wanted something. "I was at your show last night," Destar said, smiling at him. His hand was creeping towards Phoenix's leg... Yep, this man wanted a sexual favour. Well he could get in line, Phoenix thought bitterly, as he watched the hand crawl closer and closer towards him. "You were fantastic..."  
"I'm 14. Try molesting someone your own age."

Phoenix stared at him, a frown on his face. What did this fool think he was going to accomplish by molesting him? He was in a brooding mood, and he knew his temper could snap at any second... He certainly wasn't in the mood to be raped. It had happened twice before, and he was quite used to it, although it disgusted him... He was broken, in a sexual respect, and shocked at how revolting some people were. If he got up now and ran back to the market... Hastily getting up, he started to walk away from the man, hands in his pockets in an attempt to look natural... But then, with a yell, he felt someone grabbing his feet in a tackle, and fell to the ground, smashing his face into the wooden harbour. Whirling around, he saw Destar standing over him, a malicious gleam in his eyes, as he towered over him, advancing on the boy.

"You don't want to have some fun?" the disgusting man sneered, and kicked Phoenix hard in the stomach. He hissed in pain and anger, as he was pinned to the dock by the man's foot. Writhing, he managed to free himself, and rolled over the platform, between the man's legs. Raising a fist upwards, he punched him hard in the crotch and, getting up, kicked him in the back, forcing him to the floor. Usually this would stop someone, but the fisherman was riled and leapt to his feet, face now an ugly red. "You'll regret that, you son of a-" a fist came smashing towards his face, and Phoenix ducked the blow, but was caught with another in the stomach, and was thrown over the East Empire Company Warehouse desk, smashing into a shelf. For a moment he lay, dazed, with dozens of different, strange, imported things around him, before he staggered to his feet. Fear was coursing through him; he had to get away! He didn't want to feel that pain! He could feel tears in his eyes: why hadn't he just stayed with Mercury and Thorn, and this would never have happened!

Destar was walking towards him now, a furious look on his ugly, paunchy face. He twisted his lips up into a leer, before kicking Phoenix in the stomach, winding him, and forcing him backwards against the wall. Terror was now filling him as, wide-eyed, he saw the rough fisherman's hands going to his trousers. But a sudden strength filled him as he kicked forwards, as his foot connected with the man's stomach. He was not trained in fighting, but his years of acrobatics had made him strong, and Phoenix watched as the man recoiled, clutching his stomach. Now was the time to run, and Phoenix tried to, hobbling at quite some speed towards the door... Destar was too quick for him though, as Phoenix was injured and the fisherman now had the upper hand, because he drove his knuckles into the back of the youth's head. He screamed in pain, shutting his eyes as he readied himself to be violated... Wait. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a gleam of metal... A dagger! And Destar was walking towards him, hastily unzipping his trousers, readying himself to violate the teen... But the acrobat could reach the blade, from his position on the floor, could reach it with ease... But kill a man?

His thoughts were flooding: what could he do? Grab the blade in the defence of his... of his life? He doubted Destar would kill him, but... Making up his mind, he threw himself across the floor in a last ditch attempt, and grasped the dagger. Twisting himself around, and seeing the man bearing down on him, Phoenix shut his eyes, heart pumping against his chest, counted to three... And thrust the blade forward into his attacker's chest. He could feel blood splattering on his face, as again and again he stabbed, hearing screams of agony, and the feeling of blood and flesh hitting his face... Was this it? His green eyes still shut, blood coating him, Phoenix wondered...

People said that killing a person was like having your soul split into pieces. That it physically hurt... This didn't hurt. The only person it was hurting was Destar. Perhaps it was because he was only doing it in defence? Because Destar might not even be dead yet? He... he would have to look at some point, to see the carnage he'd created...

Slowly, his hands slippery with blood, he dropped the dagger onto the floor, and with his hands, prised open his eyelids, and saw what he had done.

The man was lying on the floor, trousers half unzipped, hands covering his face, and red liquid staining his white shirt crimson. Blood. Through the rips that Phoenix had made in his shirt, the youth could see gaping wounds, spewing all kinds of bodily fluids... Destar was dead alright. But where was the pain? Where was the soul-splitting agony?

"I killed him in self defence," Phoenix muttered to himself, not looking at his blood-stained hands in the fear that he would throw up. His heart was beating hard against his ribcage, and he felt a little sick... It was defence! Defence of his virgini- oh wait. Err, defence of his life? He could argue that the man might have tried to kill him, or he could have died of pain... Oh Gods. What had he done. "It was self defence! I did nothing wrong!" He was almost crazed, shouting to himself. He could feel his heart beating faster and faster, bile rising in his throat... But no searing pain. And, the longer he looked at the body, the less sick he felt. Swallowing the bile, he gained the courage to look down at himself, and swore. "Bullshit." Phoenix whispered, seeing the state of his clothes. He was covered in blood! Bloodstained! People could see the proof of his deed, now, see it on his clothes! But then... he was in the East Empire Company Warehouse. There might be clothes in here... Clothes he could exchange for his own, bloodied clothes. He would have to destroy the evidence though... Rational thoughts, like he had killed in defence, left his mind. He was a murderer now...

And he didn't feel any pain at all.

Sweating profusely, he stripped off completely, and tore his clothes into shreds, throwing them into the ocean. He was so lucky nobody had come at Destar's screaming... Running back into the Warehouse, he yanked open a barrel, and found apples. Becoming more and more desperate, he ran towards the other side of the room, slipped in the blood onto the floor, and remembered that it was not only his clothes that were covered in blood. Running outside, he leaped straight into the sea, and nearly leaped straight out again as the freezing cold water enveloped his body. For a few moments, he treaded water, before ducking down under the surface, and washing himself completely of blood. What if someone came? he thought, as he ran his hands through his bloodied hair.

After a minute or so, he ran back into the warehouse, jumped over the growing red puddle, and began to search through the crates. Weapons... cabbages... leather armour... clothes! A great sack of them, all new by the looks of it! With a joyous grin, he dug his hand in, and pulled out a green tunic that was ever so slightly too large for him, some black leggings, and soft leather boots, pulling them on one by one. Then, sprinting down the stairs and pushing his sopping wet hair out of his eyes, he paused for a second to look at the body one more time. The body of a rapist, and a pedofile... Dead, like a sow, lying in his own blood, wallowing in his own filth.

And then, the thought that changed his entire life occured to him, and he spoke it out loud, as slowly, a smile came to his lips at last.

"The bastard deserved it." and with that, he spat on the corpse.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Phoenix walked into his tent, to find Thorn and Mercury lying on their bedrolls, waiting for him. His heart had not stop pounding since the last words he had spoken ("The bastard deserved it"), and he wasn't sure he could take having a normal conversation with his friends. They were watching him curiously: two pairs of eyes, one pair grey, one pair amber, were following his every moment as he stomped towards his bedroll and threw himself down on it. "New clothes." observed Mercury, raising his thick eyebrows. Phoenix, who was not in the mood to be forgiving towards Mercury's dim persona, smiled ironically, and flourished his hands in a mock imitation of Mitrai. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Men and Mer, Children and Elders, come see the Phoenix Bird in his new clothes!" he said sarcastically, sitting up and glaring fiercely at them. Thorn chuckled. "Somebody's defensive," he teased. Then, his tone turned apologetic. "Sorry about Sylvia... She came looking for you again. Thought she'd upset you."  
"Fuck Sylvia."

He was slightly disquieted. The words had left his mouth before he'd intended them to: they sounded harsh, bitter, angry. And truly, that was how he felt: he didn't care about Sylvia, at that moment. He probably would in a few hours; he'd regret ever saying "fuck her" but at that moment in time, he just wanted to be alone. Maybe he'd take his bedroll out and sleep under the stars... no. He'd feel tormented by the spirit of the dead man.

They'd probably found the body, by then. He'd discarded the dagger, destroyed his clothing... there was no way anyone could find out it was him who did the deed. Still, even if they did, the man was trying to rape him! That's a pretty good excuse for murder. Even if he had... well... not minded it. When he thought back, he realised he'd got a certain rush as the knife went into the man's gut... No. He was crazy for sure. How could anyone... enjoy murder?

He knew that Thorn and Mercury were still watching him, wide-eyed and confused. He felt like he owed them an explanation, somehow. He must seem suspicious. With a sigh, he rolled over to face them. "I was pissed off, so I went into Radiant Raiment and bought myself some new clothes. I'm just angry and tired, because we have to leave for Whiterun tomorrow, and I can't be bothered to face the horse ride with someone clinging to my back. Okay?" and with that, he stripped off quickly, and once he was just in his underwear, slipped under the covers of his bed, and slammed his eyes shut. His tent-mates were still talking, but Phoenix blocked out his ears to their mindless chatter.

All he could think about was the way the blade had felt as it slipped into Destar's gut.

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Astrid dangled her legs over the world. The Void was a strange place; and at that moment, she was floating over a small replica of Nirn, as she had requested. But her sharp eyes, enhanced with mystical, legendary powers that only the dead know, were watching Phoenix with an air of pride in them. "First kill." she whispered to herself, as she remembered her own first life-taking. Her uncle had tried to touch her... So she'd touched him. Well, specifically, his heart, as she'd torn it from his chest. Little details like that kept her going, and she smiled in delight. He'd even enjoyed it, her little Lukos had. Lukos. That would always be his name to her: not that gaudy title Phoenix that he'd been given. Such a strange childhood he'd had: kidnapped by Silvanus' brother, and when he was killed by bandits on the road, rescued by a CIRCUS TROUPE, no less, who were nearby. Not a bad childhood, an acrobat, not bad at all. Well, it may be if Phoenix was not a born acrobat, as he was, but considering his talent... From her side of the family, obviously, she chuckled to herself. Although she was sad that he hadn't been raised by her and Silvanus or, at least Scarlett.

She watched Scarlett sometimes, too. Generally, she split her time watching Nirn between Scarlett and Lukos; usually, Silvanus joined her. They would just sit and observe: glory in their victories, cry at their tragedies... Scarlett could sense them, Astrid thought. Occasionally, when they were laughing at her, the girl (or woman, as she now was) would inexplicably do a rude gesture at the sky. Either she was angry at a bird (which was somehow unlikely) or she could feel that unearthly people were laughing at her...

And Scarlett wasn't exactly earthly herself, anymore. 7 years ago, when Scarlett was 21, she'd allowed Babette to bite her. And now, the Mistress and Speaker of the Dark Brotherhood was a vampire, who would eternally look 21. Not the worst lot in life, being youthful and beautiful forever. Scarlett even had children now: Obsidias, Charon, Electra, and Xaphan, who were gifts from Sithis, and also another little girl who nobody was sure of the fatherhood. Xindal, Mortas, Nazir, another gift from Sithis... Nobody really knew.

Silently, Astrid missed her children, and felt her unbeating heart bleed for them. The son who she would never meet. The daughter who she had left behind.

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_Like I said, I'm not abandoning Astrid and Silvanus. Lachance xxx _

_ps. Reviews are appreciated :)_


	3. A Strange Dream

!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!  
SADLY, I THINK VEEZARATHECAT WAS EATEN BY LIS... POOR SCARLETT. FIRST CAT EATEN BY ARNBJORN, AND NOW SECOND EATEN BY A GIANT SPIDER? SHE DOESN'T HAVE THE BEST LUCK IN PETS, POOR KID :/ SORRY TO ALL THE SYLVIA HATERS, SHE CAN'T DIE JUST YET... IN FACT, I THINK OUR HERO HAS THE WRONG IDEA ABOUT HER. SHE'S SOMETHING OF A MAIN CHARACTER IN THE STORYLINE, ALTHOUGH SHE'LL GET HER COMEUPPANCE. AS A WARNING, THIS PART IS SLIGHTLY INCESTUOUS. AS IN SCARLETT/PHOENIX. DON'T WORRY, ONLY THIS CHAPTER, AND ONE OTHER WITH REFERENCES TO THIS CHAPTER, ARE THE ONLY ONES WITH IT, AND HE DOESN'T KNOW WHO SHE IS AND THIS IS JUST A DREAM ANYWAY :) THIS CHAPTER IS M FOR A REASON... PLAYED THE SONG SWEET SACRIFICE BY EVANESCENCE WRITING THIS :O

"So perfect..."

She danced through his dreams. The woman with heavily lidded red eyes, and long, curly blonde hair, and fangs as sharp as knives. Through a dark space, a strange, huge space full of shadows and death. Lips as red as blood, he watched as blood spilled from her mouth, and dribbled down her front. She smiled at him, the woman, with a smile as strange and evil as ever, but somehow comforting and sweet. The blood poured down her front, over the black wisps of cloud that cover her naked body. The blood is flawless, he noticed, so perfect, and as red as his costume. Dream-Phoenix crawled forwards, as the blood splashed onto the floor, and curiously placed his hand in it. He lifted his hand to his face; he could smell the nightshade emenating from everything, and his face is reflected back at him from the beauty of the glistening red liquid... Slowly, his tongue poked out of his mouth, as he licked the blood away...

"So delicious..."

Phoenix smeared the red-drink on his face, all over him, tainting himself with the bitterness of death. It's so... so FLAWLESS, as he knelt on the floor and lapped up the rest like a dog. When it was all gone, he rested at the beautiful woman's feet, curled up into a little ball, worshipping, begging for more of the stuff. He couldn't look at her, for fear that her beauty would burn him some now: such perfection could not be looked at. Was she a Goddess? A demon? A succubus? Who was this flawless creature that gave him the gift of blood? And more of the red-liquid poured down from her lips, and he caught it in his hands, and drank it, tasting the sweet blood in his mouth... Phoenix's tastebuds were on fire as, in ecstasy, he held his mouth open for the next wave of perfection. A cold, dead hand met his cheek, as more of the stuff dribbled down his throat, he felt her hand go to his lips, and he kissed it, worshipping it with his lips, licking the blood away from it...

The youth could hear her laughter, and fell to the floor at her feet as he worshipped her once more, praying for her dark gifts... Who was this creature? What was going on? It was just a dream, but...

"So beautiful..." he whispered, burying his face into the floor. He was painfully aroused by the blood and this strange vampire's beauty; he wanted this creature of the night as his own. In his dream, Sylvia didn't exist, it was only him and this strange woman, and he would worship her with all of him... Risking a look upwards, he saw the mocking smile on her lips, as she whispered words in a language he couldn't understand... Words of the night, words of something demonic and dark that he couldn't quite understand... His Goddess was speaking to him, and he couldn't understand her! Desperation flooded him as he tried to understand her words... Then, with a shriek of agony, he fell backwards onto the clouds, and felt white hot pain searing through his body, tearing him apart. He recoiled, writhing in pain, as, eyes watering in pain, he managed to look at her, her eyes staring into his very soul...

She bore down on him, pinning him to the ground with her body, a sly, evil smirk on her face. "Such a loyal pet." she whispered, as their lips met. Phoenix could do nothing but give into her, let his Goddess dominate him as they kissed, and the taste of blood, pure, amazing blood, ran from her mouth into his as they shared a bond deeper than hell itself, the sharing of blood... Kissing violently, blood running down both of their faces, they touched each other with fierceness and passion, tearing at each other, screaming out pain and agony to the Void. She moaned into his mouth, and broke away, straddling his hips to stare into his eyes with her unforgiving ones. "So heartless." she muttered. And then, out of nowhere, a dagger appeared in her hands and, as he entered her body, she stabbed it into his chest and, when he screamed, she inserted her hand into his chest and pulled out his heart...

It still beat in her hand, as she stared at the lump of flesh with a look of greed on her face. Blood poured down her hand, splattering onto him from this ghoulish image, as she smiled. As he began to black out, his blood flooding from the gaping wound on his chest, he heard her whisper, "Your heart is mine."

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Phoenix awoke in a cold sweat, breathing hard. Pressing his hand to his chest, he felt over his heart... It was still there, thank the Gods. It had just been a dream... only a dream... only a dream... No blood. No nothing. He was safe, asleep in his tent, and he would just turn over and be able to go to sleep... It was only then, thst he noticed the blood coating his hands. Heart pounding, his mouth gaped as he looked at the red liquid covering him, and retched. Bile, from the afternoon before, filled his throat, and he wanted to puke... Then, a thought came to him that made his blood freeze. Who's blood was it? Then, feeling sick, he shut his eyes, and turned towards the bedrolls that contained Thorn and Mercury...

Or rather, the mutilated remains of Thorn and Mercury.

And then, uncontrollably, Phoenix choked. No! No, no, no!

Blood coated his friends, and looks of terror were on their faces, lips parted in silent screams, eyes wide... Guts spilled all over the tent, blood everywhere... And, in his hand, a dagger covered in blood and innards and flesh. A feeling of dread entered him... What had he done? His friends... no... A blind rage filled him: he'd been possessed! No! It couldn't have been him who killed them; they were his friends! Snatching up the dagger, he ran out of the tent, and looked around wildly: nobody was there. Someone had come in and murdered them, it couldn't have been him who did it! There was no way, it was impossible, his friends... Then, he fell to his knees, and took the dagger in both hands, staring at it in shock and horror as the realisation hit him. He had killed Thorn and Mercury, with this dagger. He had killed them so mercilessly, the friends who trusted him... Oh Gods, oh Mara, oh Akatosh, oh... He had to run! To get away! He was a murderer! A murderer!

With a half scream, he ran, blood coating him. What was going on? What had he done? He wanted to fall to the floor and scream, cry out his madness, but... He couldn't stay here. He'd be called a murderer, caught, executed... Blindly, he ran, running towards the horses, tied up in the stables. He threw himself onto one and, kicking his heels into it's sides, he rode crazily into the night, screaming curses to the heavens, and ignoring the screams of fear people made as he passed them by... A bloodstained, crazy murderer, a killer...

A heartless killer.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The youth awoke by a river. With a moan, he opened his eyes, staring around blearily. With a groan, he rubbed his aching skull. He felt like Ysgramor himself had been hammering away at his head, such was the pounding in him. His whole body hurt: from the tips of his thick eyelashes, to the ends of his sharp toenails. Looking down at his body, he saw he was still covered in blood and, for a moment, thought he had hurt himself, and his heart speeded up as he searched frantically for a wound... Then he remembered and, with a weak moan, fell backwards, hitting his head on the river bank. Resting for a second, he tried to block the terrible memories from his mind... Finally, after many minutes, he sat up, and rubbed his eyes blearily. He wanted to mourn his friends, to be miserable, but first he had to work out where he was... And who he was with. Tottering towards the river, he dipped both hands into the water, and splashed the cool liquid on his face. Then, taking in a deep breath, Phoenix pushed his head under the water, and, scrubbing with his hands, began to get rid of the dried blood. After doing that, he stripped entirely, although he had been almost naked before, apart from his underclothes. Submerging himself under the water, he tipped his head back in bliss, and banished all thoughts of murder and blood from his mind. He wouldn't think about that for a while.

After a few minutes of luxuriating in the water, and dunking his head under a few more times, he found himself fully awake. The cool air was starting to get to Phoenix; he climbed out, and pulled his pants back on, feeling a little self concious. It was only then, that he heard the humming over to his right. His heart began to pump against his chest as, whipping around, eyes wide, the youth saw a girl a few years younger than him sitting on a stump, spit-roasting some sort of creature over a fire. A rush of fear flew through him, quickly replaced with confusion. What was a girl who only looked about eleven doing out in the wilderness, on her own? And how had she managed to carry him, a 14 year old boy? Or had she just found him?

"Hey...?" he said, and his voice came out higher than he would have liked. Some worry was left in him, as he coughed, and his voice returned to it's usual alto. "Hey?" she didn't turn around. Becoming slightly irritated, he walked forwards, not bothering to cover himself up; he was used to displaying his nearly naked body to people. Phoenix didn't really know what to do: how could he get her attention while not seeming rude? The first idea that came into his head, dancing around in front of her, seemed both insane and ungrateful, so he was stumped. Was she just not going to answer him?

Her hair was nearly the same shade as Sylvia's, although perhaps a little darker. It was longer, too, and wavy. Nice hair, soft and gentle looking. He frowned again.

"Err... excuse me?" he didn't sound rude, he hoped. He was grateful that this strange girl had saved him, if she even had, but confused to why she wasn't replying. He hadn't been rude or threatening in any way, except for the stripping (but then, he hadn't noticed her and, anyway, it was only to bathe). Phoenix waited for a few more seconds, before shrugging, and turning around to walk away... But was stopped by the sound of a young, sweet voice.

"I found you by the roadside, knocked out and covered in blood... Did someone attack you?" although her voice was gentle and innocent, her tone sounded strange... Not childlike at all. Calm and mature. Turning around, he noticed that she had swivelled around to face him, and was smiling prettily. The first thing he noticed about her face was that she had cute dimples. The second was that her eyes were bright red. Backing away, he raised his eyebrows, as his mouth gaped open in shock.

"You're a vampire?" Phoenix thanked the heavens. His voice had not come out scared, as he was, but more cool and quiet. He was terrified, his whole body frozen up... What was going on? He'd gone from being a simple acrobat, to a crazed murderer in only two days... And now he was about to have his throat torn out by a rabid vampire... But she wasn't getting up. She had stayed seated, one leg folded over the other, a pleasant grin on her face... Somewhat wolfish and hungry, but that was regulation, Phoenix supposed... Oddly, the fear evaporated from him. What... Was this some kind of vampiric technique? He wasn't drawn to her, but...

"Yes." she said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms. She got up slowly, and he flinched away, but stood his ground. She laughed at his nervousness, and walked towards her knapsack on the floor. Phoenix watched her with careful eyes, just waiting for her to grab him and drain him of all his blood. But she didn't and, when he next looked at her, he saw that she was holding a pair of ragged green trousers in her hand. The vampire dropped them at his feet and he picked them up, scrambling to put them on. She watched him and then, once he was slightly dressed, smirked.

"Sorry I didn't have anything better... We murderers have to stick together, eh?" she chuckled at the shocked look on his face. Suddenly, a rush of anger flushed through him, and Phoenix marched towards the vampire, a nasty look on his face. His fear had turned to anger, and he grabbed her by the collar, lifting her off the floor.

"What do you mean by that?" Phoenix hissed, keeping careful eye contact with her. Then, remembering what she was, he dropped her, and backed away. The fire in his eyes, like the bird he was named after, was still there... And the vampire could sense it. She chuckled darkly, and held out her hand.

"What I mean, is that you and I are of the same kind... Killers. The blood that covered your body... I could feel it in you. My name's Babette. Who're you?"

"They call me Phoenix."

"Come and have something to eat. I was roasting skeever. Hungry?"

He nodded his head, still frowning at her. Indeed, hunger was clawing at his stomach, but he was too preoccupied to think about it particularly. Babette went back over to the fire, and began to turn the skeever over the flames. But Phoenix did not go and join her; he sat on the floor, and placed his head in his hands. Soft, slow sobs wracked his body, as he thought of Thorn and Mercury, and all the fun they had had... And he'd killed them, viciously. Picturing their mutilated bodies once more, he gulped back a huge cry, as tears ran down his face. Curling up into a little ball, he ignored the sounds of the crackling fire, and her quiet singing as she cooked. After a while, he got up from the floor, tears still dripping down his pale face, as he went to join her. He was certain Babette saw the tears but, after he gave her a fierce look, did not mention them. Phoenix had just cried in front of a stranger, and he was ashamed of that, but he would not let her pity him. Although he didn't think the vampire would.

Silently, using her knife, she carved off a piece of meat and handed it to him. Taking it in his hands, he admired it for a moment, before beginning to devour it. She watched him with a keen eye, almost curiously, as he ate the meat she had given him messily. Finally, when he was done, Phoenix turned to look at her, eyebrows raised. The tears had disappeared from his face, miraculously, and neither of them wanted to mention his moment of weakness.

"Aren't you going to eat..." he'd forgotten her name. Shit. Oh yeah! "Babette?" then, he corrected himself. "Oh wait. Vampire's don't eat, do they?"

She smiled, and he almost recoiled at the sight of her sharp fangs. But then, relaxing, he grinned back. Oddly, he was finding himself rather liking this strange little girl... vampire. He didn't really know why she'd rescued him, instead of left him for dead, but he wasn't complaining. Resting his head in his hands, he asked,

"Why did you save me?"

Babette considered the question for a second, pausing. Then, slowly, she shrugged, narrowing her eyes. Truly, she knew the reason... But had to seem offhand. She didn't need this mysterious boy knowing where she was from and who she was working for... "Oh, you just reminded me of someone. Don't know who." she did know who. Silvanus and Astrid, that was who this boy reminded her of. Same age as their son would've been too... However, this kid was much too jumpy to be their child. She had Lukos in her mind, how he looked and acted, and this certainly wasn't him. Odd coincidence though...

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To Skylar: I'd do a list of races for you, but I don't want to use up my word count :) I'd suggest, if you want to bother, going to uespwiki to look up races, but that's up to you. I got into Skyrim by watching my twin brother play it :p although I played Oblivion first for the same reason. To Gufetto: Yup! :)  
Thanks to Everyone for congratulating Phoenix on his first kill, and he says thank you too. He lives in my basement along with Silvanus if you want autographs ;)


	4. The Transformation

_!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!_  
_BLOODY CHAPTER HERE, AND THE FIRST BIT OF BABETTE/PHOENIX ROMANCE... I LISTENED TO THE SLEEPY HOLLOW THEME TUNE WHILST WRITING THE SECOND PART (AS IN WHEN PHOENIX IS RECOLLECTING HIS DREAM AND AFTER) AND IT GREATLY ENHANCES THE READING._

Phoenix sat alone in front of the fire, watching it crackle away in the darkness. As far as he could tell, it was early morning, and Babette the vampire girl was asleep... Should he kill her? Maybe. Kill her and move on... He already had blood on his blade, intentional or not. He shivered in the early morning breeze, as he heard the sound of light snoring coming from the tent where she lay to avoid the sunlight that would burn her skin... He could drag her out into the sun, that'd kill her, and it would erase his tracks... But could he do it? Kill and innocent little girl... No, not innocent, or a little girl. A crazed vampire was more the words he would use to describe her. With a sigh, he lay backwards, and rested his head on the ground, looking up into the rising sun. So nice for him, but so deadly for her; it could even kill her if he held her down in it, perhaps, or held her head under the water as he did it...

But he couldn't kill her. Phoenix had never killed intentionally or maliciously: the fisherman was in his own defence, and he hadn't been in his right mind when he'd killed Thorn and Mercury... Who else would he kill, if that happened again? Gods, who else HAD he killed? He shut his eyes, and tried to relax. It truly was a mad world. He suspected it was something to do with the dream he'd had, but how could a dream lead to homicide? Mother Mara, he didn't even know.

"Boy?" the youth heard Babette's sleepy voice. She'd started calling him "boy" (because apparently she disliked the name Phoenix) but it didn't seem to be insulting. They'd been up all night chatting, and Phoenix found himself rather liking the little night-spawn. She was cynical, witty, funny, and had a dark sense of humour that really got him laughing. An intriguing specimen, to say the least. He couldn't kill her, and he knew it. "Babette, when are you leaving me?"

There was silence for a second. Phoenix had been expecting this, and wanted to ask her as soon as possible so he could begin to plan his new life. He couldn't go back to Cyrodiil, he'd have to stay in the unfamiliar, unwelcoming land of Skyrim... He wondered which unreputable city might take him in. Riften, perhaps? Or Windhelm? He knew that his new-found friend couldn't take him with her.

"Few hours." she said, with a shrug. Then, she giggled. "Or a few days. You never know with me." he laughed, and she stuck out her tongue childishly. For a three hundred year old vampire, she really did act like a 10 year old... "We're near Dragon's Bridge, and I've got business in Solitude. I'm afraid we'll probably have to go our seperate ways... Where were you thinking of going?" Babette beckoned for him to come and sit opposite her, and he did so, crawling across the ground. She smiled warmly at him. "Riften? Whiterun? Or leaving Skyrim entirely... Pretty face like yours would be hard to forget." she teased. He snorted, shaking his head, and they stared at the rippling water. It was a slow river, almost like a slug, and it ran gently. Wistfully, Phoenix watched it, remembering the freedom he could feel in water.

"Dunno. Somewhere with water." he shrugged. "And a place I can get a job in an acrobatic troupe. But since I can't go back to Cyrodiil..." he shook his head, and thumped his fist on the ground. It made a dull thunk, but neither of them paid it any attention. Then, suddenly, he had a thought. Turning to her, he crossed his legs, and tilted his head to one side. "Babette, I just realised... Well, before I killed these boys," he refrained from saying their names, in case he burst out crying. Swallowing, he continued, "I had this dream. A strange dream; strangest dream I've ever had in fact. I wondered if you, being a vampire, might know something about it..."

Phoenix broke off. He knew he must sound ridiculous, desperate, but what else could he say or do? He WAS desperate. And perhaps, if someone else confirmed that it wasn't his fault, he would be able to live with himself... The guilt was overwhelming. Unwillingly, he conjured up thoughts of their faces in his mind, and gulped back a sob. These boys who he'd shared his life with... gone. Their families would be grieving for them. Screaming, crying, cursing his name... Or maybe they wouldn't even know. After all, he'd only been out for a few hours. He had no idea how fast couriers could run... He was a wanted man in Hjaalmarch. Only a few miles away from him, the troupe would be panicking, searching for him, perhaps... Sylvia. She would know what he'd done. Know what he was. A killer. Remembering back to his dream, he couldn't stop himself shivering in ecstasy. The beautiful feeling as the girl kissed his lips, as she fed him blood, as she... as she stabbed him through the chest, even. The pleasure had been ridiculous. Even then, he almost became erect thinking about it. Even... well, especially when she stabbed him through the chest, and tore out his heart. Truly, if he ever got the chance to meet his Goddess... His heart was all hers.

"Mmm...?" Babette replied, eyebrows raised, a hesitant smile on her lips. Phoenix turned to look at her, and his gaze was almost pleading. "Well, I had this dream about, well... a woman..." Babette choked with laughter, and Phoenix shook his head, a reluctant grin on his own face, as he pretended to slap himself in the face and fell backwards. "Not like that! Well... sort of... but that's not the point." Babette was trying to keep her giggles under control, as she watched him, trying to keep her face straight. She liked this poor kid, and he reminded her of someone... Silvanus, that was it. And some Astrid in there too; in the way he looked, and also the way he acted. He'd shown some of Astrid's seductiveness earlier, he had her green eyes and facial features, and Silvanus' awkwardness, pale skin, and long, white blond hair. The way he laughed, too, a quiet, throaty chuckle that made shivers go down her spine...

"Please continue. But if this is a x-rated dream, beware, I will not hesitate to sink my fangs into your face." she mocked, and he laughed, and shook his head at her. Then, lying back, he shut his eyes. Once again, Babette felt a strange feeling of recognition in her, as she stared almost hungrily at his flawlessly pale skin. How beautiful it had looked with crimson blood running down it, the way the red and white went so well... She licked her lips. His neck lay so bare, so vulnerable, and she just wanted to sink her fangs into it, to straddle his waist and drain him of all the blood he had... But she rather liked this kid. She wouldn't kill him, or hurt him in any way... Although it was a desirable thought.

"Well... I was in some sort of black plain. Nothing anywhere, except me and this woman. Smoke everywhere, and it felt high up, almost like we were in the clouds, except everything was dark black and seemed to go on forever... So empty." screwing up his eyes tight, he tried to recollect every detail of the dream. "Well, uh..." he tried to stop himself blushing, and failed. Immediately, Babette missed the paleness of his cheeks, but was made happy again by the raised blood in them. "She was... erm... naked except some of the clouds covered her... err... private parts," already, Phoenix was regretting talking to her about it. Babette laughed, and made a note to think that this kid had showed some seductiveness EARLIER, but that was clearly draining away. The awkwardness she had sensed was coming out with a vengeance. But the hilarity was gone, as he bit his lip, looking nervous. "And she was dancing." he muttered, looking into his hands. They were twisting in his lap, knotting and unknotting fervently. "Dancing this... well, I don't know why, but it looked like the movements of stabbing someone... But a dance. It was strange, I wanted to follow her to worship her... So I did. Then we stopped, and she spat blood... she was so beautiful..." his eyes were glazing over now.

Babette watched him with a kind of fascinated horror. She'd frozen the second he started describing this dream, momentarily distracted by his awkwardness, but now she was riveted. Could... could this be? "Describe the woman." she said quietly. Her heart pumped hard against her chest, and she waited, with bated breath, for a reply... He thought for a second, then pursed his lips, frowning.

"Heavily-lidded eyes..." he frowns. "Her eyes were red, like yours, only darker. Long eyelashes, and long, curly blonde hair. And she had this smile... Twisting, like poison, ready to say words of both love and hatred. She... she had fangs, like you. Quite tall, slim and curvy... So perfect..." he was almost in a trance as he remembered the feel of her body pressing against his own, the feel of her hand against his lips, hell, the feel of her lips pressing against his... Babette had her mouth slightly open, as the words flooded through her. This description fitted only one person... Well, some parts could fit two, but the red eyes and fangs... But how did this child know Scarlett? If he had said green eyes, and forgotten about the fangs, she would have said Astrid, but... Scarlett had asked Babette to transform her a few years ago, when Scarlett was twenty one. Babette had happily obliged, and the Speaker/Mistress had been a vampire ever since, and loved it... How had she appeared in this child's dream?

"Finish the dream... Finish it..." Babette's voice was breathless, as she grabbed Phoenix's hands in her own, and stared into his green eyes with such passion and ferocity that he knew he must continue. He, too, was out of breath and, eyes firmly on hers, took up his story in a whisper. Their foreheads were practically touching as, as if in a dream, they stared at each other, eyes wide. Their hands were still held together, and they were linked. If someone had come along, at that moment, the two of them would have ripped that poor person to pieces: they both felt stark mad as they looked at each other.  
"The blood came from her mouth... And I drank it... It was so AMAZING!" he cried, throwing a crazed smile to the heavens. "I... I thought I might die of ecstasy! The taste- it was like... It was unnearthly. She's my Goddess, so beautiful, so flawless, so PERFECT!" he was raving now, an evil smile on his lips as he looked at her. Her heart was beating faster and faster as she watched the handsome youth getting into his stride. There was madness buried deep underneath his exterior, and it made her... He hadn't made her feel like this before that night, nobody else had apart from Silvanus... But this boy. This boy... "The blood ran down my hands..." a sadistic look of glee formed on his face, as he smiled crazily at her. "And I licked it up. It turned into a puddle at her feet, and I lapped it up like a fucking dog! I would've done anything... I would do anything... To taste that sweet. Sweet. Sweet taste again..."

Phoenix was crazed. The memories filled his head, as he remembered the amazing feeling, the joy he had felt... Taking her face in his hands, his lips inches away from hers, he continued in hushed tones, "I licked up more, and she touched my face, and I kissed her hand..." his voice was building up again, and the mad desire consumed both of them as they smiled insanely at each other. "I thought her beauty would BURN me! Such perfection cannot be looked at... And yet I look at you." the words had escaped his lips before he meant them too, and nervously, they both laughed, brought back to the time and day as he accidently complimented her... And Babette blushed. This kid could be like Astrid yet... But he was continuing, and the normalness was, once again, disappearing from those deep green eyes... She stared into them, and felt like she was falling under his spell. Dream-like, she stroked his face, eyes wide. "She was speaking words... Such strange words- words that I didn't understand. Words of the night. But they hurt me: it hurt so much, I thought I might die. But I didn't, and she leaned down to me, pinned me to the floor, and we kissed... Blood was running from her mouth into mine, and it was like some sort of bond! I don't know, but... She said 'So Heartless' and pulled out a dagger, and stabbed me in the chest... But I was inside her, we were having sex, just as she tore out my heart... It was beating in her hand! And she loved it, as my own blood poured onto my chest... And she said 'Your heart is mine', and I woke up. To find Mercury and Thorn's mutilated remains." he chuckled darkly.

Silence. Babette's mind was whirring: this was a Child of Sithis! A demon! He had to be- the way he'd dreamed about the Void, had the dreams of blood, the way he laughed, now, about the murders he'd committed... Slowly, she smiled, showing her fangs. And then, violently, she pushed him backwards onto the soil. He cried out as he hit the ground hard, but she leaned over him, straddling his hips like she'd dreamed of earlier... "Do you want to be a vampire, like me?" she hissed, and her eyes glowed an even deeper red. "I want to infect you. I want you to know the bloodlust I feel... And I can show you."

He watched her with those green eyes, so young, so deep... "What will you show me?" he replied.

They paused for a second, locked in that position. Then, Babette's hands went to his own, pushing them back behind his head, pinning him effectively to the ground. With a dark smile, she chuckled, and narrowed her eyes down at him. The sensible Babette from earlier was gone: all that was left was a wild, blood-crazed animal that wanted this child as it's mate... "Everything. If you let me transform you, I will show you EVERYTHING." she whispered.

Babette waited for a moment, waiting for his reply, to whether or not he would be hers... Slowly, eyes never leaving hers, he nodded. "Yes. Transform me, and make me like you." he breathed. "I want to tear people's souls open, and drink that blood. You will show me my Goddess. And then, I can live the life I was born to. I... Something has awoken in me. Something strange. The Phoenix I was only a few hours ago... Is dead. Turn me into one of you."

He looked into her face, trustingly. He knew there would be pain that she would technically kill him... But all he wanted was to taste blood again, to feel that ecstasy that his Goddess and now Babette would make him feel... Maybe she knew who his Goddess really was? Maybe this strange young vampire could introduce them? And then Phoenix could worship her properly, in real life... Memories of Sylvia and the Circus, and his life apart from this new bloodlust left him. All he wanted, at that moment, was to tear things to shreds and to bite and to kill and to torture... Gently, he eased back his head, exposing his young, pure, untainted neck to her bite.

Babette surveyed the flesh greedily, eyes filling with pure desire. She would choose carefully: she had a great amount of desire in her, and she would be rid of it all. Then, she and "Boy" could go on a rampage together... Perhaps, when she had changed him, he would forget about being called Phoenix. That would be good. She truly hated that name with a passion: showy, and clearly not his real name. He was an orphan raised in the circus, sure, but that didn't mean she had to approve of his name. There was a particularly succulent looking bit of flesh just beneath his jawbone, that was ripe for her fangs... The vampire shivered in delight as, slowly, she pressed her lips to his neck, and began to kiss the spot. He moaned in pleasure, hands still pinned down, and pulled his head back further, allowing her complete access. Babette grinned into his neck, and nibbled softly on the skin, eliciting another groan from him.

"Babette..." he whispered, and, encouraged by his use of her name, she widened her mouth, and let the tips of her fangs tickle against his neck. Then, she began to kiss and lick the spot she planned to bite, worshipping his skin with her lips. He grunted and moaned as she worked away at the skin, trying her hardest to leave a mark. Then, finally, she pulled away, and looked at him. He was panting for breath, and looking up at her with adoration in his green eyes... Pity. She would miss that fresh colour; they reminded her of poison. Identical to how Scarlett's had been, in fact... She frowned. But then, as he whispered her name once more, was reminded of her task. Slowly, shutting her eyes, she pressed a butterfly kiss onto his lips.

His heart was fluttering, like the kiss had been, and he looked up at her with gentle eyes. Taking one hand from under one of her own, he brought it to her cheek, and stroked it. What had started as bloodlust had become outright romance as they stayed in that position, enjoying the feel of their bodies against each other. Then, Babette descended back to his neck, as she eyed the spot. And then, with a dark chuckle, she sank her fangs into the soft flesh.

Phoenix screamed out in what was almost like orgasm: the feeling of pleasure and joy that feeled his body was incredible and immense, as he shuddered in both pain and joy at the feeling of her tongue deep in his neck. Then, what seemed like cold liquid began to emmenate from the tips of her fangs, buried in him, and he hissed as the venom began to infect his body. Lying there, he shuddered and jolted as he was infected, as bloody tears ran down his face.

Babette watched him, eyes tender, as he began to cry as the pain and pleasure became too much for his young body. As he blacked out, she pressed another gentle kiss against his lips, then licked the red teardrops from his pale face.

"Sleep well." she breathed, kissing him one last time, before she sat up, and stood guard over his sleeping body. When he awoke, they would go on a killing spree together. The thought practically made her wet. All thoughts of her mission in Solitude were gone as she watched his dreaming, perfect face... Silvanus' face... Astrid's face...

Who was this child?


	5. The First Stages of Vampirism

_Phoenix stood in a darkened room. The curtains were shut, and he could smell something strange in the air... He wasn't quite sure what it was. He couldn't... He couldn't feel himself. Then, looking down, he saw nothing was there! His body had disappeared! He tried to scream, opening and shutting his mouth, eyes wide... But he had no mouth and eyes to move! None-existant tears were dripping from his none-existant eyes as he squirmed in mid-air, and then he saw something... A shadow in the dark room. A shadow in the corner of the room, creeping towards... what was it... a bed? The youth could see a sleeping figure on the bed... Fast asleep, unaware that the shadowy figure was going to do something! Phoenix wanted to save the sleeping person, a young child with curly red hair, he saw, but he couldn't do it! He was writhing, like a worm, in mid-air, trying to move, to save the innocent child! He couldn't let him die! A feeling of dread filled him, as the shadowy figure reached the bed... He had to cry out! He had to cry out, and save the child! But before it happened, Phoenix knew what was going to happen..._

_The shadowy figure's head sank to the child's neck, and a piercing scream filled the room, and Phoenix felt a feeling of ecstasy feeling his body as he watched, in desperation, as the child screamed and cried, and blood splattered all over the room, and the shadowy figure's deep laughter... Deep and sultry, brooding and evil... Who was this monster? Phoenix thought, as he struggled to be free of the invisible binds. Who was this evil being who could do this to a poor child and enjoy it? He hated the pleasure he was feeling as the shadowy figure drank the boy's blood, and he didn't know why he was being affected... He could never do that to an innocent child! An INNOCENT CHILD!_

_And then, as the shadowy figure sat up, and Phoenix saw his face... His heart practically stopped beating. A pale face, with high cheekbones, and blood running down from his lips... Long, shoulder length slightly wavy white blond hair, and eyes as red as the blood that splattered his face... It was him! He had just killed that child, just sucked his blood until he breathed no longer! And the Evil-Phoenix smiled a smile of pure malice at him, and walked towards him, eyes firmly on where Phoenix's eyes should've been._

_"This is what you are, Phoenix." the vampire breathed, and Phoenix screwed up his face and screamed, long and hard, as he struggled to get away. That wasn't him! Not that twisted, empty, shell of a person... He could never kill a child like that! So thoughtlessly, as if this child could just sit up and walk away... He was gone. His family would mourn him! "This is who you are... embrace it."_

_And then, the dream shattered into thousands of pieces._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Phoenix woke up, and found sweat beading on his forehead. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead, as he sat up, and shook his head. Strangely, his hair was wet... But how? Then, a horrible thought occured to him, and, heart frozen, he looked down to his left... But Babette was sleeping peacefully next to him. She was breathing, he could see that, and there was no blood on her. Still, to reassure himself, he pressed one finger to her neck to check her pulse. It wasn't beating and he was terrified for a second, but then he remembered that her heart wasn't beating anyway- she was a vampire. "Babette?" Phoenix whispered. The girl grumbled in her sleep and turned over, and he sighed in relief. But why was his hair wet? Dreading the answer, he looked outside, and saw it was early morning. The sun was coming over the trees, and the woods were peaceful. The burnt out remains of their fire were still smouldering away, black in the morning sun. The river was flowing slowly and, yawning, he got up to go over to the river and wash whatever it was out of his hair... Pushing the tent flaps open, he made his way out into the sun... But then, the second he stepped out of the tent, he felt an indescribable pain searing through his body! It felt like he was on fire, like he was being boiled alive, as he shrieked and threw himself backwards into the tent. Looking at his arms, he saw ugly red welts were appearing on his pale skin... What had happened? They stung painfully, and he hissed in agony, a tear dribbling out of his left eye... He heard a soft yawn and turned his head to see Babette smiling sleepily at him.

"What's wrong?" she said, before yawning again like a little cat. He winced in pain, not looking her, as the rash on his skin sent another shock wave of pain through him. "Went outside... and it hurt." he replied pathetically, not bothering to wipe the tears from his eyes. He didn't know why: he'd just taken a step out of the door, and inhuman pain had filled him. Why? Would he ever be able to go outside again? What was going on? But then, she laughed quietly, and shook her head at him. "What? I can't ever go outside again, now!"

"You're such a drama queen." she chuckled, getting up and crawling over to him. Babette gently took his hand that was nursing his arm, and pulled it away. Like a baby, he let her, and watched her carefully as she stared at the rash. "Ahh, you shouldn't have gone outside. Vampires can't go out in the sun, remember?" From her pocket, she pulled a sticky yellow salve, dipped a finger in, and began to softly rub it onto the rash. It hurt for a second, before turning to delicious numbness. Phoenix moaned in pleasure as the pain slowly disappeared. Babette smiled grimly. "There. It'll sting, later, but this should take most of the pain away... What in the Void possessed you to go outside anyway? Did you..."

"I forgot." Phoenix replied, gritting his teeth as another stab of pain took him over again. The salve seemed to work in short bursts because, a second later, the pain went away. "I'm starving. Is there something we can eat?" then, he answered himself before the young vampire could reply. "I need blood, don't I? But we can't go out now, it's day... we'd burn." lying back down, he put his hands under his head. So... he was a vampire, now. Living off blood. His eyes would be red and he could feel his razor sharp incisors poking into his lip. And... he would live off blood. Silently, Phoenix wondered if his dream would come true, and he really would kill that little boy... no remorse... A strange, almost pleasant thought. Phoenix felt like his mind had changed: no longer did he feel slightly squeamish at the idea of blood. Murder, he wasn't sure he could live up to, but blood... He licked his lips. And this girl, Babette, who he'd only met yesterday but felt like he knew so well...

"Boy?" Babette said, illiciting a growl from Phoenix. He hated being called 'boy'. It made him feel young, weak, vulnerable... Not a pleasant feeling. But Babette seemed unfazed, because she leant over him, looking into his eyes. With a low chuckle, she brought a hand to his pale cheek, and stroked slowly. "You're such a perfect specimen..." she breathed. "So born for vampirism... You're even handsomer now."

Phoenix sniffed. He didn't hold much stock of "handsomness". He'd found it rather ridiculous when young things trailed after him, asking to be signed in intimate places just because he was goodlooking... He liked to be followed by people who admired his acrobatics, not the way he looked. He especially didn't like it when people he considered friends or, with this strange girl, even more, told him how attractive he was. He didn't need to be told he was.

Nevertheless, not wanting to seem pathetic by rebuffing her, he chuckled. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself." he teased. She giggled at his outright flirt, and he laughed too. He loved her childish laugh. "How old are you?"

Silence. Phoenix knew that you should never ask a lady her age, after having his cheek slapped so hard it had been red for weeks when he asked one of the older dancers, completely innocently. However, with his new friend, why shouldn't he? She was only a kid, after all, of eleven years old by the look of her. So why was she blushing, eyes on the ground. Realising his mistake, he hastily amended, "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend, I'm just..." what was he. Interested? What about Sylvia back home? But she didn't even like him, although they flirted frequently, but he got the impression that this kid... did. And he liked her. How could he like two girls at the same time?

"No, no. It's fine." Babette didn't sound fine. Her voice had taken on a cool element, and she gave him a slightly nasty look. Internally, Phoenix shook his head. He would never understand girls. "I'll tell you someday, perhaps. But you don't need to know at the moment. There are other things I have to tell you... about your vampirism."

"I almost forgot." he said sarcastically. She frowned at him, recognising the annoyance in his tone, and lay her head back against the tent canvas, looking into his eyes. Babette could sense something in this boy: a deep, bubbling fury and violence that... excited her. She missed the piercing green of his eyes, but the crimson colour that they were now... He really was like a phoenix. However, she couldn't help being a little irritated at his sarcasm. The young vampire glared at him. "No you didn't." she answered, her voice cutting. It was a bad comeback, and she knew it, but she was too tired and drained to think of anything better. He looked at her sideways, a half smile on his face. "I know." he replied shortly, then, sitting up he went to her, and sat crossed legged, eyebrows raised. "I want to know... Does it hurt people? When you... well..." he didn't want to say it. He knew he sounded pathetic, but he didn't want to hurt people. Even if he needed blood to survive, and that thought was appealing to him, but pain... He'd had pain himself, and he would not wish it on anyone else. As a child... well, to be an acrobat you must have a flexible body. So he'd had his limbs twisted and manipulated, pulled out of their sockets and put back in again, and... and it had been infernal. A screaming baby, having his limbs twisted into shape to be an acrobat... And he'd watched other babies having it done to them, and silently pitied them. He wouldn't wish that sort of pain on anyone. "Feed on people. Does it hurt them?"

Babette looked into his eyes. She couldn't quite tell if he was serious. There was something about him... something about him that she thought even he didn't recognise. Something embedded deep in those heavily lidded eyes, a madness and depravity that she'd seen when she'd turned him the night before... He didn't know himself at all. Phoenix didn't know his... potential. And, perhaps over time, she could help him realise it. But how would she answer that it hurt, it hurt a lot. Couldn't he remember how much it'd hurt when she'd bitten him? A feeling of annoyance bubbled up in her. Couldn't he remember anything that happened that night?

The girl wasn't sure whether to mollycoddle him, to lie and say that it didn't hurt in the slightest... But she couldn't lie to him. Not to this boy. What was it about him, that had made her pity him? She'd found him, a vulnerable boy, completely knocked out, lying in the middle of the road, covered in blood... So why had she decided to save him? They say that when a vampire finds it's mate, they know and turn them... But was this boy destined to be her mate? Perhaps, one day, this boy would kiss her as she had kissed him, and remember it completely... But she could never hold his child. That thought upset her slightly... Gods, she was getting ahead of herself. This boy, a handsome 14 year old, probably had a sweetheart back home... She wouldn't lie to him.

"Yes. It hurts a lot." she tried to skate around the details: the feeling as if your throat was being ripped out, the feeling of utmost agony as the fangs sink into your sweet flesh... She would put it simply, and try not to scare him. "It hurts a lot. But remember, boy, it isn't hurting you... and it's over too fast for them to notice much. All these humans, every single one of them..." she gestured in a random direction, and saw his eyes followed her hand. "Are cattle. Prey for us. And that's it." she hadn't lied, directly, although she had not gone into detail. She couldn't tell him the rest, for fear that he may kill himself to escape from his bloodsucking future. But, as she looked at his face, he didn't seem shocked... He seemed intrigued.

"Boy...?" she said, her voice hopeful. Perhaps he wasn't as wimpy as she'd originally presume? Phoenix didn't look sickened, not at all. Interested, curious, yes, but not scared or disgusted. He wasn't looking at her, though. He was looking through the tent flaps, eyes slightly clouded over. He was thinking about something. "Boy?" he turned his head around slowly, and Babette felt an unwilling thrill of fear pass through her. He had a smile on his face. Not a great beaming grin, more of a smirk, but it was there. Her heart was not beating, but if she'd been alive, it would have been. His probably still just about beat, because he was newly turned, but it would stop, soon. It took 72 or so hours to be fully transformed. And now... he would be 14 forever. Better than being eleven for eternity.

"Yes?" his voice was brooding, offhand, as if he wasn't really paying attention. Babette could tell his mind was on other things. She didn't reply, not letting her gaze fall from his face. He was looking straight back at her, although dreamily, and she was slightly worried that his hunger for blood included her as a possible feeding victim. His eyes certainly looked hungry.

"You can't feed on other vampires." Babette's voice came out in a high squeak, and she coughed, trying to regain her usual drawl. "Err... Because we don't really have bl-" "I'm not going to feed on you." the girl relaxed. She'd been worried for a moment... but then again, he was certainly capable of lying. A murderer always was. "Babette, I'm hungry. Can we go find someone to... kill?" The words that emerged from his lips were almost unwilling. But a shy smile emerged onto his face, and he blushed, a little embarrassed. Babette looked at him for a moment, from under heavy eyelids... then smiled.

"Yes. But tonight. For now, come. Let's get some rest first." and, leaning back, she yawned slightly, as she had when Phoenix woke her. "Sleep well, boy." But before she could hit the ground, Phoenix crawled forwards, and placed an arm around her back. "Can I...?" she nodded, a small smile on her lips, as she opened her eyes and looked into his. Slowly, he lay down too, and they lay in each other's arms, like lovers, foreheads pressing together. Both shut their eyes and, soon, sweet sleep overtook them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Astrid?" Astrid turned around, to see a blond youth with startling blue eyes behind her. Silvanus. She smiled coyly at the appearence of her lover, then turned her head around again, swinging her legs over the side of the Void to stare down onto Nirn. She was rather pleased about how everything was turning out. Lukos and Babette had met, and now her son would surely be initiated into the Brotherhood... the young vampire seemed rather taken with him already. Astrid did not approve of his vampirism, but there was little she could do about it, apart from throw something at Scarlett and hope that the girl understood the hidden meaning... Or not.

The Nord woman felt a warmth beside her and, glancing sideways, she saw her lover was sitting next to her, staring into the same spot as her, eyes intense. Feeling her gaze, Silvanus looked around at her, and grinned. "He grew up fast." he chuckled, and Astrid laughed, and leaned her head in towards him. Resting on his shoulder, she sighed. "Ysabel started walking today." she said, a happy smile on her face. Silvanus raised his eyebrows at Astrid, confused at his partner's sudden compassion. She'd never been this happy when any of their other grandchildren started walking or talking or were born... She'd made a suitably huge fuss about Lukos, but otherwise... He snorted, and she laughed too. Then, suddenly, she bit her lip.

"I wish we were back on Nirn. Except for the fact we'd be ancients by now... Well, I would."  
"Vain as ever, Astrid." Silvanus said, mock tutting her. She sniffed, and looked down, thoughtful. "No. I'd have made you bite me, or Babette. Do a Scarlett." Astrid muttered. Why is it that both of her children had become vampires? "Yes, we all know you like to shout at her. I think she can hear you." Silvanus teased. Then, for a second, he paused. "I think EVERYONE can hear you." Seeing the murderous look in her eyes, he put up his hands. "Sorry! Sorry! I... I love you...? DON'T KILL ME!"

Silvanus nearly got pushed out of the Void for that one.

!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!  
_Sorry about the huge delay! I've been extremely busy. Everyone goes on about "luck of the Irish" but that doesn't stop me getting huge writers block... I didn't have enough words (I always do 3000+ per chapter), so I did a small, slightly (alright, not...) humourous part with Astrid and Silvanus. I can just imagine them. Most of their stuff will be for comedy purposes only, to lighten up the evil atmosphere with everyone else, and we'll have some Arcturus, Lucien Lachance, and Falkreath Sanctuary members guest-starring in their little bits. Next chapter will be out Monday, probably, Tuesday latest. It will be more action-y than this one, this is just a filler to make Babette and Phoenix's relationship bigger... And yes, Silvanus and Astrid call Phoenix Lukos, because that is his actual name :) Astrid :p_


	6. Bloodied Madness

Phoenix smiled. It wasn't a nice smile, not at all. His teeth were far too sharp to look friendly, as they once had when bared in a grin. Now... they looked frightening. Unnaturally white, and sharp as razors. It had been 72 hours. The transformation was complete. And Babette had told him a few things. She'd told him how old she was, for a start, and that had shocked him... But in the end, he'd grown to like the idea of immortality. The immortality he now had.

He'd awoken that evening with a throbbing ache in his throat. When he'd felt it, he'd found... nothing. Then, out of interest, he'd felt a little further down... And found that his heart had stopped beating. It had been a horrible shock, at first, to find that he was dead and yet still living... But after waking Babette in a frenzied panic, she'd told him that all was well and that he was completely fine. It had been a relief to find out that he wasn't going to drop down dead any second. Oddly, however, he'd felt... different. Blood didn't just seem desirable, anymore, it seemed... Perfect. He needed the beautiful red liquid pouring down his throat once more; there was a hunger within him that could only be quenched with blood... He wanted to sink his fangs into sweet flesh and taste the blood that hid under delicate skin. Phoenix could practically feel his fangs itching at the thought of being fed, but Babette had restrained him. He wasn't quite sure why: she'd been keen to drink HIS blood and bite HIM, so why shouldn't he have that luxury himself?

Sitting outside in the twilight, he watched the burning embers of their fire. Babette wasn't awake yet. She was still fast asleep in the tent, but he'd been too excited to sleep in. She'd promised him that they'd go to Dragons Bridge and drain some poor villager of blood... He smiled at the thought. Phoenix had transformed into something new, and he knew it. Memories of Thorn, Mercury, and Sylvia were leaving him now, as he thought about the sweet savour of blood on his lips, on his tongue... He wasn't quite sure what he'd do after he and Babette went on their massacre. Maybe, now they'd shared the bond of vampirism, she'd take him with her? Somehow, Phoenix doubted it. The vampire girl had skirted around every single detail of why she'd been travelling on the road at night, and what she was doing... Almost suspicious. She was probably doing something illegal, he'd guessed that, but what? He was quite curious of what her job was, and why... He shook his head to himself. Phoenix knew he was terrible at remembering important clues: he had an appalling memory. He was sure that she'd hinted a few times, but he just couldn't remember what she'd said... It was lucky he was so skilled as an acrobat, otherwise he'd be useless. It wasn't that he wasn't clever, he was, his memory was just terrible. And he rushed into things far too quickly.

In a way, he regretted becoming a vampire. What would he do now? He would be shunned for his vampirism and, when Babette abandoned him, he would be alone in the world. She would have got her way, and he'd be left with the consequences. After all, it hadn't exactly been pleasant being bitten by a crazed vampire.

He sighed, and stretched his arms out, laying his head back as the sound of the river rushing downstream filled his ears. It was relaxing: the way the sun was almost gone, although it was high enough to make his skin tingle a little, and that was a nice feeling too. He no longer felt hungry, Gods, he hadn't eaten in at least 48 hours, but that didn't bother him. Babette had promised that they would set off when nightfall came, and there was only an hour or so to go until the black cloak of night came and covered the land... Perfect hunting weather. Phoenix chuckled at that, and yawned, showing his razor sharp incisors.

"Somebody's up early." he heard a sleepy voice behind him and, turning his head around, saw his friend sticking her head out of the flaps to the tent, a friendly smile on her face. He smirked back (he didn't seem to be able to smile well, now, it always came out as a smirk), and crawled over to where she was. "I couldn't sleep... I didn't want to wake you, though. You looked too small." Phoenix teased, and recoiled, laughing, when she slapped his arm playfully. She was in a childish mood, it seemed, because as she got up, she skipped towards the fire, and stuck her tongue out at him. "I am NOT small." she replied, pretending to be hurt. "I am way, way, way older than you." "Oh yeah. Sorry, grandma." Phoenix was in a playful mood, and ducked backwards, with a yell of laughter, as she threw a handful of bark at him. It landed short, and she cursed. Picking up another handful, she threw it again and the male youth, who was doubled over laughing, did not move quite in time as it hit him over the head. With a shriek, he looked upwards, and yet out another cry as Babette took a running leap at him, landed on his back, and they both fell to the ground in a heap, crying with mirth. They lay there, for a while, with Babette sitting on his head, before finally, the young vampire rolled off, and stared down at Phoenix, who was still laying on the ground.

"Don't call me grandma, boy." Babette said, a satisfied grin on her face. Phoenix pulled a face, and rolled upwards. Then, with a wild laugh, he cartwheeled expertly backwards, and landed on his feet. Then, with a triumphant grin at her wide eyes (he couldn't resist showing off at moments like that- he was that sort of person), he bowed mockingly, and stood upright. "I've needed to do that for ages." he said, and then straightened properly, holding out his hand. Babette looked at it, and raised her eyebrows. "What?" "Well... aren't we going? To Dragons Bridge?" his eager voice gave him away. She let out a breath of air, and turned away from him, shaking her head. "Come on, Babette, I've waited... why can't I go? I'm thirsty!" he whined. Phoenix knew he must sound like a young child, but it didn't bother him. Why was she not letting him go? She'd promised that she'd show him "everything", and the most she'd showed him so far was how not to get burned by the sun. Not a great teacher, if that was her idea of learning. "You said you'd show me everything. Why did you lie?" his voice was colder, now, and, hand still outstretched, he bit his lip. He didn't want to lose this new friend, but she had promised, after all. Some people didn't keep their promises, but Phoenix always tried to, even if he couldn't fulfill them. It was one of his morals! Why had she gone and told him that she'd show him everything about being a vampire, and then just disappoint him like this? Bitter anger filled him.

They stood in that position for a few moments, looking from one to the other, until eventually, Babette looked him full in the eyes. Phoenix could not see any emotion in those cold, red eyes, but the look on her face showed otherwise. She was desperately trying to keep her face deadpan, but the creases on her face showed it was a struggle. And her voice confirmed what he'd been thinking.  
"Because... well... because..." her voice was thick, like she was trying not to cry. Eventually, she had to look away from him, before she continued talking. "When you feed on someone... you change. As a person. I like you, boy. I... I don't want to see you ruined. Like I am." the ghastly realisation filled Phoenix before the words truly hit his ears. Bile rose in his throat, as he saw the way her face screwed up, stopping herself from crying. Then, before he knew what had happened, she had ran forwards, and was hugging him with all her might. Tiny hands wound round his back, as she buried her face in his neck. "I don't know why I did it." she sobbed. "I've... I've... I've killed you! You're dead! Like... like me... I've ruined your life! I'm so sorry!"

She truly was like the ten year old she appeared to be, as she wailed into his shirt. Phoenix was feeling increasingly awkward, as she cried to him. He didn't know what to do. Like all other boys his age, awkwardness when near crying girls came naturally, and having one crying OVER him wasn't exactly helpful to him. He patted her shoulder, trying his best to be consoling, but he knew he wasn't doing a particularly good job. For starters, he wasn't exactly sure WHY she was crying, let alone how he should try and comfort her. Phoenix knew, if he had a mother, she would be screaming at him from Aetherius or wherever she was. Silently, he half tried to work out why Babette was crying, and half thought about his parents... The reason he didn't feel very sad about Babette probably abandoning him, was because he was used to abandonment. He'd been told that the troupe had found him on the road, with a carriage that was being attacked by bandits. Mitrai had told him that it looked like his parents had abandoned him, because they found him alone with a dying carriage driver far too old to be his mother. She'd told them he was called Phoenix, and to take care of him. That had been it. And so they'd taken him in.

"Boy?" Babette spoke through her tears, and Phoenix looked down at her, eyes half concerned, half confused. She chuckled tearily at his expression, and stroked his cheek gently, before pulling away. "Boys!" she said to herself in a loud whisper, shaking her head at him. "I... I just got emotional. I don't know why I broke down like that..."

Babette knew full well why. When you feed on a person, your soul changes. Your personality, too. She hadn't always been murderous: as a young girl, she'd been naive and innocent. Now, her innocence was just an act. But the same transformation would happen to Phoenix. He'd go from being what he was, to... something else. Something demonic. She'd sensed the murder in him, and had at first been excited by it, but now... It scared her a little. From spending time with him, she'd fallen more and more under his spell, and she (but apparently not Phoenix) knew it. Babette wasn't sure she could stand falling in love so deeply, then having the person she loved snatched away from her because he couldn't bear to be seen with a child. She'd fallen in love before: with Silvanus, with another before him, and with one other after him and before this boy, too. She'd spent days sitting on Scarlett's lap, sobbing her heart out after he refused to be turned into a vampire because he wanted to grow up. Babette had a companion, now, so why was she so upset? She would comfort herself and be optimistic: truly, there was no reason for her to be upset. He would still be the same boy, even if it took a bit of time for him to get over his bloodlust.

Softly, she smiled.

"Alright. Lets go."

And, hooking her arm into his, she lead the way up towards the road, taking one last, hopeless glance at the friendly boy next to her. That face... It looked so much like Astrid's.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Phoenix looked at the sleeping boy in the room, and swallowed. Babette was waiting outside, ready to sound the alarm if something went wrong. It was just him, in the room, and this poor, poor boy. Silently, as he crept towards the bed, he wondered what the boy's name was, and who would miss him. Friends, maybe, and family. It was dark, so he could not properly make out the child's face, but he looked about a year younger than him, maybe 12 or 13. He was fast asleep, curled up in his bed, and... sucking his thumb? Another stab of worry hit Phoenix. This child seemed to young... he knew he'd probably die. The boy. As a new vampire, he had no idea where he should bite, and what veins would kill a person if bitten into and which would give him the right amount of blood... But there was one thing he dreaded. The screams.

Swallowing, he advanced towards the bed, not quite knowing what to do... What if he bit the boy not hard enough, and the kid screamed down the whole village? He'd be caught and killed. Grimly, he bit his lip as he finally reached the bed, and leaned down to look at the sleeping face. Then, he nearly fell over backwards. If his heart still beat it would be hammering! That face... that strange, young face... He'd seen it before. Petite features, curly red hair, freckles... The boy from his dream. The boy that he'd dreamt about killing, when Babette had first transformed him... Oh Gods, and now it was finally going to happen. In his dream, there had been screaming and crying and fighting... He would have to get the blood by force. How would he do it? Stick a pillow on his face until he was weakened, then drink his blood while he strangled him to death? But that would leave the child's limbs free, and if he was preoccupied drinking his blood, he could do anything...

Looking down into the child's sleeping face, Phoenix wasn't sure he wanted to do it. How could he? How could he end a life, like that, how could he kill an innocent child? Then, he shut his eyes. The thirst was too much.

Screwing his eyes tightly shut, he knelt on his knees. He opened his mouth, and felt skin brushing the ends of his fangs... The boy moaned in his sleep. That was encouragement enough; with a hiss, Phoenix opened his eyes, the feeling of skin on his fangs driving him, and sank his fangs deep into the boy's neck. Blood spattered all over his face, and a bloodcurdling howl met his ears as the boy awoke. Panicking, Phoenix stuffed a fist in his mouth, and continued to drink... And, oh, the ecstasy! The feeling of pleasure pumped through him as he bit again and again, tearing the boy's neck to shreds. Flesh and blood covered his face, as he moaned in joy as the blood filled his mouth, so perfect and sweet and tart... Kissing his neck, Phoenix heard a grunt of slight pleasure from the boy... and smirked against his neck. Babette had told him that it sometimes happened: the victim felt pleasure, if the feeder hit the right spot. Encouraged, Phoenix bit more gently, taking his time. The excitement was filling him, and the boy groaned into his hand, eyes shut tightly. The pain was enormous, Phoenix knew, but the pleasure was greater. But the vampire didn't care, anymore. Blood was splattering everywhere; and Phoenix felt it running down his face! Oh the joy, oh the perfection; how had Babette kept him from this? He felt a twinge in his pants, such was his bliss, and continued sucking away the blood.

"You're my first, ever. D'you know that?" he whispered to the boy. The bleeding child's blue eyes crinkled, and one, pearly tear emerged. It was a tear of death: the boy knew he was going to die, as Phoenix looked at him, with no pity in his eyes. The pity was gone from Phoenix... something had truly changed. He didn't care who would miss this boy anymore. All he cared about was his own pleasure, and, surely, the boy had got something out of it? Keeping eye contact, Phoenix licked the tear from his face, and looked critically at the mess where his neck had once been, as he savoured the salty tang on his tongue. "Goodnight." and with that, Phoenix bit one last time.

And exterminated the child from Nirn forever.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Phoenix slipped out of the door, and found Babette with a dead man and woman lying on the floor next to her, a look of satisfaction on her face. Seeing him, she smiled broadly, and nodded her head in excitement. "You did it?" she questioned, seemingly hungry for his reaction. "You killed the boy?"

"Yes." The vampire replied. Then, opening his mouth, he showed the red stains on his pearly white teeth, as he smirked evilly, staring full into Babette's startled eyes. "He's dead. And I must say, Babette, I'm furious you didn't let me do that earlier..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The woman with blonde hair sat at her desk, drumming her fingers inpatiently on her desk. Her curly hair was pulled back from her face in two braids, and her eyes were deep crimson, and heavily lidded. It was dark, in her office, and she was bored. All of her playthings were so boring at that moment... None of them were any fun anymore. It came of being a vampire, she supposed, that meant she had human playthings... But none of them lasted long enough. After her last love, she couldn't love anymore. There was no room for love left in her dead heart, not after Silvanus, and her mother, and... everything.

Babette had been a while, and she was worried about her. The vampire didn't usually take so long out on contracts, especially not a simple one like that... But the Speaker knew not to underestimate her friend. She had certainly not been taken by some sort of bandit; she was too clever for that. Most likely, the girl had been way-laid by something else... She smiled to herself. Maybe Babette would bring something interesting back to the sanctuary. It would be nice to have something new in the sanctuary, after so many years of the same old. She'd never grown up much: after requesting that Babette bit her, aged 21, most presumed she hadn't grown since then. Physically, she hadn't (and that was great, in her opinion) but truly, she hadn't grown much as a person since age 14, when... IT happened.

Somehow, her instincts told her something exciting was going to happen.

She heard footsteps by the door and, tilting her head to one side from her sprawled position, saw a young girl with wide green eyes standing in the doorway. She smiled. Her youngest daughter, Ysabel, had always been a mummy's girl, unlike the others. Getting up, the woman went over to the child, and lifted her into the air. Ysabel laughed delightedly, kicking chubby legs in the air, and the Speaker smiled, before depositing her gently down on the floor. Being the Mother figure in their dysfunctional family had some benefits: she knew how to deal with anyone, now. Flirt with the young men, be friendly with the young women, be respectful to the elders, and laugh with the children. All of the true children in the sanctuary were her own, but she was a good mother to them. Like how her mother had been to her.

The Speaker knew Astrid would be laughing at her, from the Void, and Silvanus probably, too. Sometimes, she could sense when they were watching her. They always picked the most innoppurtune moments. She was almost considering becoming a follower to one of the Daedric princes, or pretending to be the Dragonborn, so she didn't have to go there. She would be teased ENDLESSLY. Some people say they share everything with their mother.

Scarlett literally did.

And most of it she'd rather Astrid did NOT see.

_!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!_  
_First bit of Scarlett here :p I missed her, even if most of you didn't. Next update should be out thursday or friday._


	7. The Stranger

!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!  
TO DRAGON- YEAHH, I STOPPED CALLING MYSELF ASTRID AT THE END! NEED TO START DOING IT AGAIN :) FELL OUT OF HABIT, I GUESS. PS. SOMETHING EXCITING HAPPENS IN THIS CHAPTER. YOU'LL HAVE TO WAIT AND SEE WHO APPEARS...

"And so what happens now?"

It had been days since Phoenix had transformed. Not much had happened since the initial feeding on the young red haired boy, and the youth was growing impatient. What did Babette intend to do- stay there forever? That was possible, what with their immortal life-spans. But Phoenix didn't want to stay by this boring riverside forever. His personality, much to both of their joy, had remained, although it had... twisted a little. He was aggravated, and he could practically feel his fangs itching. He wanted to kill someone... But most of all, he wanted to do some acrobatics. He'd never gone so long without doing a flip or a roll, apart from the meagre cartwheel he'd done a few days ago, and he wanted to so badly... Everything was feeling... cushy. He'd had as much as he wanted to eat, he could sleep in whenever, and she told fantastic stories, but... He wanted to LIVE some of those stories! She'd seen the world so many times, but he wanted to see it for himself. No matter what his feelings for her were.

"So what happens now?"

He'd not meant to ask her in that tone. His voice had sounded commanding, angry, bitter... Phoenix didn't like his own tone, and wanted to scold himself, somehow. Ever since he'd become a vampire, things had... changed. He was no longer as lighthearted as he had once been, and he was thirsty for blood. The boy felt weakened. And he didn't like to feel weak. Not any more.

Babette frowned at him, and yawned in the evening moon. Her fangs showed, as her pink tongue stretched like a cats. Eventually, she shook her head, looking at him. Their eyes, both crimson, met, but Phoenix looked away quickly. He couldn't stand the resentment in her eyes. Maybe she would have liked to stay there forever- he didn't know. But the look on her face was hurt, and he didn't like her being that way, even though he didn't want to stay by that riverside forever. "Patience." she muttered, her voice sharp. "Try and have some patience."

He spat on the ground, and got up, pacing back and forth with a scowl on his good looking face. He could hear her cutting words in his head over and over again: patience. Patience. He didn't have any patience left! When he next whipped around, he saw a softer look in her eyes as she looked at him. She bit her lip, and it began to bleed. Phoenix felt a strange urge to go and lick the blood off her plump lips, but he knew that would seem sexual, although all he really wanted was the blood. He knew that another vampire's blood wouldn't nourish him, but perhaps it would quench this damn thirst... He looked hungrily at her neck, ignoring the gentle look on her face. Babette noticed this, and hastily, knowing he could now overcome her with ease, pulled her dress up to cover her neck. Phoenix laughed cruelly and turned around, to face a tree. Slowly and deliberately, he banged his head against it repeatedly, hoping she would notice. However, when he eventually turned around, he saw she was resting her feet in the shallows of the river, and staring idly into the running water. With an angry hiss, he stormed over to her, and placed himself next to her, a sarcastic smile on his face.

"Oh isn't this fun!" Phoenix said in a mocking voice, raising his arms in the air. "Let's just sit here and watch the river forever! It's not like I want to live my life, not at all..." he was brought off by the look of anger in her eyes. Quietly, he chastised himself. Sometimes, this strange new existance ran away with him... He really didn't want to be nasty to her. In his own way, he liked her... Maybe even loved her. He didn't know. There was something about that girl... And now he was being horrible to her, for no apparent reason other than he was annoyed that she seemed to be enjoying this peaceful life. Phoenix shook his head to himself. He would NEVER understand girls. "I'm sorry, Babette, I..."

"It's fine." but the cold tone in her voice told him clearly that it wasn't. He waited for a moment, thinking. A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he coughed awkwardly. He'd been thinking about it for a while... Well, Babette. The mystery of Babette. Why had she been out on the road? Well, she was a vampire, but she seemed to know enough about real life to not be one of those savages living in the woods... And why on earth had she chosen to save him, when she could have just left him there to die, or drained him of his blood and moved on? Somehow, he wasn't quite sure that he wanted to know the answers. There were things about the young vampire that already shocked and disturbed him, even though he was a night-spawn himself... What if the answers were as horrifying as his existence?

Laying his head back on the ground, he shut his eyes and heard the sound of water running downstream. It soothed his ears, as a cool, night breeze tickled his face. Then, something else did. Opening his eyes, he saw that Babette was leaning over him, her brown hair against his cheek, brushing his pale skin. She was looking at him intensely, a small frown on her young face. It was not an angry frown, more of a curious one, like a small child observing something strange or mysterious... Perhaps, if a random person came along, that would be what it would look like. A small child and a demon. Phoenix smiled at her, and felt her moving to sit on his chest. Her chestnut hair moved away from his face, and he immediately missed the sweet fragrance of her hair. She looked down at him, tilting her head to one side.

"You don't look much different." she observed. "Paler, and your eyes are red and your teeth are like fangs... But otherwise, you're the same on the outside."

Immediately, Phoenix felt awkward. Was she making an observation about his looks, or about how he'd changed inside? But she wasn't talking anymore, she was just gazing steadily down into his face, a small smile on her lips. She leant down, and kissed his forehead. Phoenix felt the place she had touched with her lips burn, and a grin emerged on his own face. They looked at each other, and all the anger had melted away. Finally, after many minutes, Babette rolled off him, and went over to the stream. She sat in the place she had before, and just stared into the water. Lying in place for a second, the youth stared happily up at the night sky, before getting to his feet and walking over to his friend. He looked down at her, still on his feet, and she rolled her head back to look straight back at him. Then, Babette looked back into the river, eyes determined. Phoenix could tell she was thinking.

"Penny for your thoughts." he whispered, sitting down behind her and pressing his torso against her back. He spoke straight into her ear, and a smirk appeared on her face. For a few seconds, they sat in silence, before Babette finally said something.

"Haven't you ever wondered where I'm from?" she said slyly, leaning back against him. Her head went onto his shoulder, and the vampire spoke straight into his own ear, like he had done her. "And why I found you, and why I spared you? I could've drained every last drop of your blood... But I didn't. Do you think you know... why?" she was playing with him, like a cat does a mouse. If any person had seen the two of them together, they would have guessed it would be Phoenix doing the playing... But if they got a little closer, they would see the sly smile on Babette's face, and the look of triumph, too.

Phoenix wanted to tell her that he'd been asking himself those very questions only seconds ago, but he was in the mood to play. Bringing one hand up to stroke her cheek, he shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. Thought I was too beautiful to leave behind?" he teased, and she laughed. He laughed too, and pretended to guess again, putting on a slow voice. "Uhhh... Alright, here's my guess. You're actually a middle aged Orc man who was transformed by Azura to look like a young vampire. You came from the Bards College, where you were training to show everyone your amazing skills with the piccolo, but were thwarted in your plans by Sheogarath himself when he dumped a bag of faeces on your head. Ashamed, you came into the wilderness and found me, and was so captivated by my handsomness-" he was playing up to it now, acting out his own little drama, snorting with laughter, on an imaginary stage. "That you decided to kidnap me and keep me as your sex-slave until the day I die... But you thought of that, and turned me into a vampire. Cunning, oh so cunning..."

The youth was stopped in his facade when Babette tackled him to the ground, and they fell into a laughing heap. Eventually, when they stopped shaking with laughter, Phoenix (who was a natural actor) sat up straight and pulled a completely solemn face. "But of course... that's just a theory."

"Well, I'm afraid to tell you, your theory is incorrect."

Phoenix nearly wet himself with fear as an feminine, sultry, dark voice filled his ears. Frozen, he saw Babette, too, freeze as she looked around wildly, searching for whoever had spoken... But could see nothing. Nobody was there, that they could see at least.

"Intriguing, though. I never thought Babette was a middle aged Orc man."

How... how did this voice know Babette? Turning in shock to his vampire friend, he saw that the fear was gone from her face, replaced by a grin of welcome. She got up, and held out her arms, shaking her head at the blackness. Not understanding what was going on, Phoenix stared at her in disbelief, trying to work out what was going on... Who was this voice? Why was Babette finding this so amusing?

"Come out, Scarlett." the vampire girl said, tutting mockingly. "It's not polite to hide from your friends."

And then, as quickly as the voice had come, a figure appeared in the darkness. Phoenix squinted to try and see her better, but all he could see was her figure: a nice figure. Slim, but curvy, and about medium height, with a slight slink in her walk. Somehow, although he had not seen her face, he could already picture her in his minds-eye. For this voice, as he had realised only seconds ago... Was the voice of his Goddess. It was unmistakeable. That alto voice, so calmly evil, was like ambrosia to his ears. But who was she, who was she truly? If he was alive, his heart would have sped up, as he watched the woman moving towards them. She was dressed in tight leather armour, in a black and red pattern with two daggers at her waist. A cowl covered her face, with a strip of red material covering her nose and mouth. She was watching him carefully, and her eyes were narrowed... Then he noticed something. They were as red as his own. 'Scarlett' got closer to him and in a few seconds, was standing at his feet, looking down at him lying on the floor with amusement in her eyes.

"So you're who has been keeping Babette so busy." her voice gave him chills. Especially when it was directed at him. Suddenly, he felt very shy, and felt his cheeks reddening. Who. Was. This. Woman? And why wasn't Babette doing anything about it? She sounded almost flirtatious, so why wasn't the young vampire doing anything about it? He gulped, watching her. "You must be quite someone to be able to distract our Babette." she chuckled to herself, and Phoenix heard Babette laugh too.

"Honestly, Scarlett, you know how to intimidate people..." They both laughed again and Phoenix, feeling as if they were laughing at him, climbed to his feet. He wouldn't show this woman that he was afraid of her (even though he was). He looked at her in the eyes, and saw her raise her blonde eyebrows in an arch. She nodded at him, and he could see the smile in her eyes. Then, she turned around to talk to Babette, and he suddenly felt as if he was in the dark.

"I was worried. You'd been weeks." Scarlett sounded concerned. Babette smirked. Although the now grown up Scarlett was almost exactly the same as Astrid had been in looks and in personality and demeanour, she had moments of childishness that really made the young vampire laugh. She would never forget the nine year old Speaker running around the sanctuary screaming because there was a spider in her room. Lis the Frostbite Spider had eaten it for them (the thing apparently didn't have any problems with cannibalism). And now, grown up, flirtatious Scarlett just made her think of Astrid. When they were alone together, Scarlett would be as childish as ever. It was almost cute, and it was one of the things that Babette liked most about her.

"I was fine. You shouldn't worry." even in situations where Babette should be the younger one, being comforted, it always ended up the other way round. It was a thing between the two of them, that they both rather enjoyed.

"Still, it's annoying. You don't just abandon a Brotherhood mission, Bet. I nearly got killed myself by the stupid contract. Talking about deadlines and all that... Still, it would be a lot easier if we still had a Listener."

Taking in these words, Phoenix froze.

The Brotherhood.

The Dark Brotherhood.

Babette and this woman Scarlett were from the Dark Brotherhood.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_So Scarlett's back! Wooooo... *sees I'm the only one cheering* Ah well. Sorry about the delay on this one, next chapter will be out on Monday. Hope you liked this chapter, reviews are what keeps me going! Astrid :) Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, a lot going on at the moment :/_


	8. The Assassin

!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!  
GOT A PM OR TWO ASKING IF IT'S GOING TO BE SCARLETT/PHOENIX... NO! FOR ONE THING, THE PAIRING IS BABETTE/PHOENIX, AND SECONDLY, THEY'RE HALF SIBLINGS. INCEEEEEST ;)

"Y- you... the... the..." Phoenix couldn't quite get the words out of his mouth. He felt sick. He could feel himself shivering, and his stomach was tying itself in knots as his legs practically turned to jelly. Babette... this strange woman... the Dark Brotherhood? Phoenix felt like he was going to faint; his head was spinning. He needed to sit down, but what if he had to run... He knew his eyes were probably clouded over, because Scarlett was giving him a strange look. Babette looked anxious, her eyes narrowed, and little creases on her cheeks. The youth wanted to run, but his legs were frozen into place, as he stared at them, terrified. Scarlett had stopped talking, clearly confused. She raised her eyebrows at the young vampire, and Babette laughed shakily, shrugging.

"Didn't I mention that?" she asked, her voice light. Phoenix knew she knew she hadn't told him. The look in her eyes... The eyes of a murderer. MURDERER. He'd known she was a murderer, but... a Dark Brotherhood murderer... For MONEY! Not for nourishment, considering she didn't usually kill when she fed, but for MONEY and FUN! A... a psychopath! He began to back away, holding up his hands. Phoenix could feel his mouth gaping, as he stared onto the two... the two killers. Both of them had blood on their hands... Sure, he too had blood on his hands, but the first was in self-defence, second and third were by accident, and the fourth... madness. Light was beginning to dawn on him as his hands wound and unwound behind his back. Scarlett was armed, even if Babette was not, and the older looking woman could take him out with ease. He was unarmed, smaller than her, and had a lot less training... He was fast, and an acrobat. Maybe that would come into use...? He backed away slowly, knowing the fear in his face would only amuse them... Babette. His friend. He felt miserable, betrayed... He'd known there was something wrong about her, deep inside, but he'd hoped it was just the whole vampirism thing... Not that she was an assassin. She'd lied to him, not told him the truth...

He looked at Scarlett, of whom he was more afraid, but she wasn't moving. She was leaning on one leg, a relaxed stance... But all that he could see of her face, her eyes, was cold and calculating, eyes narrowed. Slowly and deliberetely, not taking her eyes off him, she brought her hands to her cowl, and pulled it off, shaking out long, curly blonde hair. A smell of jasmine hit the air, and Phoenix couldn't stop himself breathing deeply to inhale the scent... But there was something under the nice smell. Something almost metallic... blood. That was it. But then, he brought his eyes to his face, and almost fainted. It truly was the face of his goddess: an ethereally beautiful face with high cheekbones, and a proud look to her, and a twisting, dark smirk... This truly was a queen of darkness, someone to worship and admire. Phoenix felt his breath taken away as he watched her, almost giddy.

But he was put off by the dark look on her face.

Red eyes narrowed, she smiled humourlessly. Beside her evil prescence, Babette looked like the little girl she appeared to be; cute and vulnerable. Phoenix felt a rush of fear, and for a second, he forgot that Babette was a centuries old vampire. She looked like an innocent child, about to be killed and devoured by this succubus of a woman, and he wanted to help her! The look of worry in the young female vampire's face was adorable and, even though she'd utterly betrayed him, Phoenix felt a rush of love for her, intermingled with his wide eyed admiration of the older assassin.

"Go on then. Run." Scarlett's voice frightened him. Low, dark, silky... Not sweet and kind like his young friend's. He could definetely imagine this woman stabbing a knife into someone's back, but the thought of Babette doing such an evil act... Perverse. He wanted to help her! He could take her away, he could... But then the assassin's words made sense to his ears. She was allowing him to... to run? Just like that? But he knew who she was, could describe her to guards, could... But her dark glare brought him back to his senses, and he looked straight back at her, determined to show no fear. Phoenix wanted to be brave, and he would try his hardest. But the little boy voice in him was urging him to run, to take the chance while he had it... But how could he leave Babette? The wind rustled in the trees, filling the air that consisted of, before, only of the rippling of the river. It was a spooky atmosphere: almost pitch black apart from the moon lighting small slants through the trees. Phoenix was completely split. Fear was still coursing through him but, looking into the evil woman's eyes, he knew he had to choose quickly. Should he run, and try and forget about his lost love and the whole ordeal? Or should he stay and deal with the consequences?

"You can run if you like. I won't follow you. I swear on my sister's grave."

Sister's grave? Who would make a promise like that, and then forget it? That would dishonour the dead and she, clearly a Nord, would not do something like that... Even an assassin had honour, right? But a twinge in Babette's eyelid told Phoenix something was wrong with this statement. He had learned to pick out small things like that, especially when he worked with other acrobats, and his vampiric eyesight had only enhanced his ability to notice things... Then it came to him. And, without thinking about the consequences, he said firmly and clearly,

"You're lying."

It was a mistake, and Phoenix knew it. Babette was giving him a pained look, and the second the words passed his lips, the youth regretted them immensely. He had just told a powerful assassin that she was a liar... And now she would probably disembowel him. He was frozen with terror, and shut his eyes, waiting for the blow of true death and the blood that would spurt down his front... But he felt nothing. Maybe, when you're a vampire, death doesn't hurt... Slowly, tentatively, he opened his eyes. Scarlett was still standing in front of him, but she didn't look angry, not at all. She looked interested.

Then, seeing his shocked gaze, she laughed. "I don't have a sister. Well done, little night-spawn." Phoenix wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or not. Her voice sounded mocking, but almost everything she'd said so far sounded like that. He wasn't sure, yet, if he liked Scarlett. He wanted to worship her, if that was anything, but he tended to like people who were straight out nice to him, no strings attached. He was almost certain that, if he became friends with this woman, she would stab him in the back the moment it suited her. However, unconditionally, he admired her. "So, now, not the best situation for you, it it? Try to run away, and I'll kill you. Stay here, and I'll take you with us and probably kill you in the morning. Nothing personal... Loose ties, all that." her voice was pleasant, now, as if they were discussing the weather, not his imminent death. Phoenix very almost laughed. This whole situation was ridiculous: from the vampirism, to the Dark Brotherhood, to the murders... He would wake up, at any second, to find the whole thing had been a horrible dream, and that he hadn't even performed yet. No, he'd be in Cyrodiil, with Thorn's family, eating bread and soft goats cheese and grapes and hot chocolate...

Thorn. Mercury. The friends that he'd killed.

Unwillingly, he began to cry. Tears were dripping down his face as he fell to his knees, and sobbed into the ground. Misery replaced his fear, as he screamed out his agony, and shock and terror... Why was this happening to him? Why him? He was just a simple acrobat with crushes on girls, and friends, and... And no family. Shaking his head, he suddenly felt ashamed at crying in front of this stranger. Sitting up, he wiped the tears from his face, and looked up. Then, his shame evaporated. The look on Scarlett's face was not of pity. It was of understanding. Looking over, he saw an anxious look on Babette's face, and felt his heart melt for her.

"Phoenix, right?" he turned to look at Scarlett, determinedly unashamed. He would not show her his fear, not after that embarrassing episode. She was holding her cowl under her arm, and her head was tipped on one side. For the first time, Phoenix noticed that Babette was holding her arm, huddled into her side. Although the younger looking Babette was about 10 times her age, Scarlett looked like her elder sister, or mother even. Somehow, to Phoenix, it softened up the atmosphere. Although the way the assassin was looking at HIM wasn't exactly motherly, there was basic kindness under the mocking exterior. She looked a lot gentler like that.

"Yeah." he replied, and when he spoke, he found his voice was quite stable. Strange, as he'd been crying to high heaven only a few moments ago. Staring into her eyes, he saw a glimmer of pity streak through them. Then, slowly, she shut her eyes, as if thinking. For a few, heart stopping moments, the woman just thought, opening her eyes and studying him carefully. Then, she said in an almost flirtatious voice, "You've got the build of an assassin. Look like one, too."

"I thought he looked like you."

Both of them stared at Babette, who had not spoken for a while. She was looking back and forth between them, screwing her eyes up. Then, she nodded. "Yes. You look alike. I thought he looked like Astrid too..." Scarlett flinched at the name. For a second, a mere second, Phoenix could see a look of pain in the woman's demonic eyes, before they turned plain evil and teasing again. Oddly, the name Astrid struck a cord with Phoenix, but he wasn't sure why. Astrid. A nice name; pretty. He smiled vaguely, although he wasn't completely sure why. Scarlett was standing stock still, hands knotting and unknotting. Apparently, the mention of the name had unsettled the assassin, because she had her eyes shut, and her head was tilted towards the ground. She was biting her lip and, like with Babette, blood was dribbling out from the puncture marks. Once again, the youth felt a desire to lick the blood away. He realised most men and boys, in his position, would, if only to lock lips with this stunning creature... But there was something about her that reminded her of himself, if only in looks. Not that he thought himself as beautiful as she, but... The facial features and structure were the same. There was something familiar about her.

Slowly, Scarlett nodded, opening her eyes to look at him. "Yeah. He does look like Astrid. And Silvanus." her voice had gone from miserable, to curious. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was studying him closely. Then, she muttered something to herself that Phoenix only just caught. "About the right age, too... It couldn't be..." she gave Babette a strange look, and the young vampire gave her an equally significant look. Phoenix frowned, confused. What was going on? Who were they talking about? Suddenly, he realised he was no longer afraid... They didn't seem so intent on killing him anymore. But what on Nirn were they talking about?

"It's not." Scarlett's voice now sounded determined. "It isn't." and then, when Babette opened her mouth to argue more, the assassin gave her a dark look. "Don't argue with me, Babette." for the first time, Phoenix felt true, pure anger in the woman's voice. Babette fell silent, a grim look on her face. The fear returned, as Phoenix saw a flash of fury go across Scarlett's face. She was scrutinizing him, now, all kindness gone. "Now is the time to make your choice." all of her playfulness was gone. She sounded straight-out furious. "You can run, and I'll give you twenty seconds before I come and kill you. Stay... and I'll consider other options. Maybe, if you make yourself useful, I could spare you. I'm waiting."

She began to tap her foot. Phoenix, shocked by her sudden outburst, found himself stuttering. Join the Dark Brotherhood? And... and murder for money and... fun. They thought killing people was... fun. He felt ill. He should run! Maybe he'd stand a chance against her... No. There was no way in hell he would. So... stay. If he made himself useful, she'd spare him... To be an assassin. To kill people, in exchange for his own life...

Babette, seeing his inner turmoil, stepped forwards, a helpful look on her face. "It's not hard. You killed that red-haired child to survive, didn't you? Well... it's the same. You kill to survive. Like the rest of us." her voice was pleading. For the first time, Phoenix thought. Babette... she really wanted him to survive. The look on her face, caring and worried, showed that. She was an angel, and Scarlett was a devil. Somehow, despite the evidence, Phoenix couldn't make himself think about his friend killing people... It just wasn't true. There was a mix up, somehow. He felt his heart lift. When she put it like that... It hadn't been so bad, killing the child. The thinking about it had been the real problem for him... so he wouldn't think about it. At least he would survive, even if he would become a thoughtless monster.

"A... I'll be a thoughtless monster." he found himself addressing Scarlett, now, keeping eye contact. They looked at each other for a moment and, for some reason, Phoenix knew he rather liked this woman. Even though she had been barely civil towards him, he could sense a hidden kindness, that didn't show on the spiky exterior. A vulnerablility. She narrowed her eyes at him, and then, slowly, nodded, never taking her eyes from his.

"If so," she said dryly. "You'll find yourself at home with us, I promise. If I don't just kill you in the morning." Scarlett chuckled darkly, and Phoenix felt another ripple of fear go through him. He stood still, facing her. For a few moments, they sized each other up, until eventually, Scarlett smiled. It was a genuine smile, friendly, teasing. "I'll take your silence for a yes?"

Slowly... Phoenix nodded. He nodded. And in his mind, he could play himself nodding again and again and again. This was not just agreeing to an extra sweetroll, or an answer to any normal question... This was the question that would change him and his life forever, and he knew it. Playing Babette's words through his head was the only way he could keep the courage to not run away screaming then and there.

Looking back at Scarlett, he saw a look of slight sympathy in her eyes. "I..." she stopped herself. Then, with a reluctant grin, she looked at Babette. "Sorry I came." then, winking flirtatiously at Phoenix, she whispered, "Take care of her, now. She's very dangerous, even though she doesn't look it." they all laughed. Even Phoenix found himself laughing and, suddenly, a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. He would have to remember to keep on Scarlett's good side. "I'll see you back home." she said, nodding her head at Babette. The two embraced quickly, before Scarlett moved off into the darkness, pulling on her cowl. And then, as mysteriously as she'd appeared, the woman had disappeared into the night, like a shadow. Phoenix watched where she had melted into the dark, mouth slightly open.

Then, he turned to Babette, who had a sheepish smile on her face. And he growled quietly.

"Babette. You have a lot of explaining to do."

!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!  
Yaaaay! A brief summary of this chapter:  
Phoenix joined the DB Scarlett was a poser (XD)  
Babette was sheepish.

SPOILER FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER Fighting. Sibling rivalry. Romance. Blood. And plenty of lollygagging.

Astrid :)


	9. The Trial

"A jug of water, please."

The middle aged Nord man frowned. This wasn't a sight he saw every day: two young youths, travelling alone, with their hoods cast over their eyes. Mostly, if he saw children, especially in this remote place, they would be accompanied by harassed looking adults, desperately trying to keep their offspring under control. These two... were not like that. Mostly silent, apart from the boy who had just asked for water, and still. Almost eery. Somehow, Hadring felt a little entranced, especially by the boy, as he, slightly dazed, reached under the counter to grab a jug full of clear liquid. He was handsome; the girl was pretty, too, but the boy... almost ethereally beautiful. The man could think of half a dozen brothels in the Dawnstar area who would be glad to employ him. Leaning over the counter, Hadring tried to smile in a kind way at him, as he slipped the water across the bar. The boy took it, with a small nod of thanks, and also took the two glasses he gave him, and handed them to the young girl. Then, they went to sit by the window, and the boy poured the drink. Then, they both began to sip at the water... But, oddly, the drink never seemed to go down. Hadring was strangely hypnotised by them... Then, realising he must look rude, blushed and looked away. He desperately wanted to listen to their conversation, being a notorious gossip (and two strange visitors like these certainly seemed like good gossip) but stopped himself. Somehow... it didn't seem right. Becoming more calm, the Nord walked over to the broom in the corner, and slowly began to sweep the floor.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Only a few hours." Phoenix wasn't sure whether to be excited or terrified. His heart could not beat, anymore, but... He wasn't sure, if he was still alive, whether it would be beating fast, for terror. Or a little slower, for anticipation. The idea that, in only a few short hours, he would be an assassin of the Dark Brotherhood... it was overwhelming to him. With a small shiver of fear, he wondered when he'd be sent out on his first contract... To murder someone. Phoenix felt the glass clink against his teeth as he sipped slowly. He was swallowing extremely slowly and Babette didn't seem to be swallowing at all. In fact, he watched her with a kind of rapt interest, as she stared straight at him. Silently, Phoenix wondered what she was thinking in her mind. She'd been mostly silent in their journey to Dawnstar, and when they stopped off at the Nightgate Inn, she'd been completely silent. Ever since Scarlett came. The youth wondered why ever since he'd been initiated into the Brotherhood, Babette had kept to herself so much. He liked her, and the girl had just been answering his questions with shrugs, grunts, and outright ignoral. But her crimson eyes had never left his own.

Shivering slightly at her gaze, Phoenix put the glass down on the table, and looked away. He was feeling a little awkward. He didn't really know what his feelings were towards his friend, and now she was ignoring him... Were girls always like this? Was she just going to ignore him forever? Turning away, the youth coughed politely. He didn't quite know what to say anymore. It had been easy, before, but now...

"We should go in a minute, if we want to be in Dawnstar before nightfall." he said awkwardly, pushing the water away. Silently, out of her dress, Babette pulled a few septims, and put them down unnecessarily hard on the table. They made a clinking sound, and one rolled away off the table, onto the floor. It span away on the floorboards, but neither of them wanted to go after it. Phoenix had shifted, when he'd heard the coin fall, and he was now looking directly into those cold pits of fire she called eyes... and she was staring back into his. It was an unspoken contest: who would look away first. For a few moments they just sat there, proudly exchanging gazes, unwilling to look away and admit defeat. Neither knew why they were contending, but it was happening, and both had too much pride to ever give in.

Phoenix's eyes were watering. He'd thought, being a vampire, that most of his bodily fluids would have drained away, by then, but apparently he had enough liquid to stop his eyes glazing over. Narrowing them, not wanting to blink, he watched her steadily. But she wasn't giving up. He couldn't let her win, he couldn't... And his eyes snapped shut. When he opened them again, he saw the triumphant look on Babette's face, and scowled at her, before slipping off the bench and walking towards where the septim had stopped. Picking it up between his thumb and forefinger, he flicked it at his friend, hitting her squarely in the chest. She giggled, and Phoenix knew he'd won. Although she'd beaten him in the staring contest, he'd won the bigger game: making her talk (or in this case- laugh) to him. Her face immediately turned deadpan again, after she saw the smug look on his face, but a hint of a grin remained.

"Let's go." he said, with a smirk. Babette stuck her tongue out at him, and got up, edging her way out of her seat. Then, the two of them walked out of the tavern, not looking at each other, and into the cold Skyrim afternoon.

It was a freezing day, and flakes of snow fell from the heavens, obscuring the children's visions. Phoenix batted the stuff out of his face, freeing his vision, and pulled on the cowl Babette had given him the day before, pulling his hood down lower over his face. He didn't have the armour of the Dark Brotherhood, not yet, but he was wearing a long black coat with a hood, and black felt boots, and, of course, the new cowl that covered the bottom half of his face. Phoenix had noticed the looks that the barkeeper had given him, and, quite honestly, he thought he could get used to them. As an acrobat, he'd had his fair share of pain, but this... This was something else. Fear. Awe. Whatever it was, Phoenix liked it.

Walking forwards into the snow, Phoenix heard the pleasant sound of crunching snow. He wasn't used to the sound, as he was mostly in Cyrodiil, and it was nice to his ears. With a low laugh, he ran forwards, and kicked some of the snow, now heavily settled onto the ground, into the air. With another childish giggle, he leaned to the ground, and cupped some of the white substance in his hands. It was so cold it hurt, but he didn't care. He could hear Babette getting closer and closer, and he had a hilarious idea... Then, when he could hear her breathing, he leapt to his feet and threw the snowball as hard as he could. It hit her on the side of the head. For a moment, she just looked at him, dazed as the snow ran down her face for a second. Then, realising what he was doing, let out a wild scream of laughter, and grabbed her own snowball. Phoenix ran for it, grinning madly, and knowing that the tension was gone, as he felt an icy ball hit him in the back. In mid run, he dragged his hand across the floor, and scooped up some snow in his palm. Without properly shaping it, he chucked it over his shoulder, and, hearing Babette's squeal, knew that it had hit her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It had been a few hours since the snowball fight, and the two vampires had become much more friendly again. Although Phoenix couldn't quite work out why Babette had been in a mood with him in the first place, he didn't honestly care. He was just glad she wasn't angry at him anymore. Babette had been very chatty, actually- she'd described every single last detail of the sanctuary, and how much he was going to love it, and all that. They'd been trudging, soaking wet from the snow, for about three hours, and it was getting dark. Although Phoenix was glad she wasn't annoyed anymore, he was getting rather tired. He hoped that when they arrived at the place, it would be warm and dry... He doubted both. From what he could guess from the gossip he'd heard about the Dark Brotherhood, it would be a cave infested with pet frost-bite spiders. Babette had told him that fact wasn't true, but he certainly had his suspicions. He would probably arrive to find Scarlett meditating on the back of a giant spider... The thought made him chuckle. Babette looked at him, with an amused expression on her face.

"What's so funny?" she asked.  
"Nothing, nothing..." Phoenix replied, winking at her. The girl laughed, and gave him an affectionate look. Reaching out her hand, she took his. Silently, Phoenix suffered- he enjoyed the feeling of her hand in his, but, to be frank, her hands were FREEZING- and listened to her babbling on. She really didn't know how to stop talking, except from before when she hadn't talked at all. It was slightly getting on Phoenix's nerves. He zoned out slowly, so all he could hear was a mumble; it was quite soothing that way.

He could smell salt in the air, and guessed they were near the sea. The sound of seagulls cawing and snapping at each other was loud in the air, and vaguely, Phoenix could hear the lapping of the sea on the shore. He smiled, softly. Babette hadn't told him the sanctuary was on the coast! Maybe there would even be a beach... Blissfully, he strode on ahead, new feelings of excitement filling him. He could already picture it! Skimming stones, swimming in the sea... And killing... Maybe the murder could be a side-occupation. What with this, he could train himself up. He was strong and wiry, as an acrobat, but he was only mediocre with a sword or dagger... He would need to train. Perhaps he could put off the whole "contract kill" thing for a few weeks, while he learnt the basics...? Or maybe Scarlett, or whoever was leader, would want to plunge him immediately into the business- he wasn't quite sure.

"We're close now." Phoenix could not pick out emotions in his friend's voice. She did not sound particularly enthusiastic, as he had presumed she may be... she sounded flat. Her previous happiness had gone, apparently, and, as he looked at her carefully, he saw the moodiness had reappeared on her pretty face. Frowning, the youth turned around, halting them both in their tracks, and spinning her around to face him.

"Bet... What's wrong?"

She was silent for a few moments. Phoenix could hear the wind whistling through the air, as she stared at him, slightly accusing. She was thinking, he could tell, and her eyebrows furrowed together in thought. She swallowed. Then, slowly, replied in a harsh voice. "Nothing is wrong. What lead you to think that, boy?" "You've been on and off angry at me for days. I'd rather know if I've hurt you in some way, than just deal with you snapping at me every few seconds..." "Snapping at you? Snapping at you?" replied Babette, glaring at him, doing just what she claimed she was not. "I'm trying to protect you, you ungrateful bastard! You don't understand any of this, do you?"

Phoenix didn't want to reply. Anger boiled up in him- why was she suddenly being so disgusting to him? And patronising him? Of course he understood! He wasn't quite sure WHAT he understood, but he was sure if Babette explained it properly rather than just being a bitch about it, then he would understand perfectly well. Now she was just treating him like an unintelligent little child... Perhaps, compared to her, he was. But he didn't care. That didn't give her a right to act all high and mighty all of a sudden, just over something that she had decided was a huge problem. It wasn't a problem! If only she would tell him what was troubling her, maybe he could help in some way...

"I don't understand what you're going on about." retorted Phoenix, clenching his fists. Babette did not miss his little movement, and laughed sarcastically. "Of course you don't! You're just a kid..." "I'M a kid?" he wanted to strangle her. He wanted to take his hands, and rip her stupid throat out. All of his affection had disappeared- all he wanted was to KILL her! And he wasn't even sure why! This new aggression inside of him was just building up and up until, like a volcano, he felt like it would explode out of him and kill everyone! Fighting the urge to strike her, he gritted his teeth. "YOU are the one who is starting out a petty argument about bullshit that you won't even explain to me! You just want a fight don't you, Babette? Want a match?"

She growled and then, without warning, launched herself at him, tackling him to the ground. With a startled yell (he hadn't thought she'd take him up on his offer) he felt sharp nails on his neck. He didn't want to hurt Babette! What was she doing? Knowing that he had to defend himself, Phoenix grabbed one of her clawing hands, and pinned it to the ground with his foot. Flipping her over, whilst she kicked and screamed, he straddled her, making sure she couldn't move. Maybe he could reason with her... A feeling of panic filled him, as he struggled to control the screaming wildcat beneath him. Then, he was thrown into the air as, with all her might, she pushed upwards. Landing on his back, Phoenix felt all the air go out of him, and let out a low hiss. Shutting his eyes in pain, he felt cold steel on his neck and, opening his eyes, saw Babette leaning over him, a dagger at her neck.

"Fight back." she sneered, pressing the dagger into his neck. Phoenix let out a scream of pain as blood beaded up from his neck. Then, fury built up in him. It was small at first, like a cooking fire, and then, as the blade bit deeper and deeper into his flesh, it grew into a huge inferno. And then, as the pain grew unbearable, the youth let out a death scream and launched imself into the air, pushing her backwards. The dagger flew into the air, and Phoenix caught it in his left hand. He could barely recognise Babette anymore: all he saw was his prey. And he was a predator. Narrowing his eyes evilly, he advanced on her, huddled on the floor, raising the dagger high above her terrified form. Then, plunging it downwards...

He stopped. The smile on her face... it was not daring, or scared. It was congratulatory. And he could feel his own willpower stopping his hand, as the anger evaporated from him. Aghast, he threw the blade into the air, and looked down at his hands... Covered in his own blood, and maybe even a bit of Babette's too. He sank to his knees, staring at her. Her face went from happy to anxious. "Boy? Are you alright?" she asked, biting her lip. She looked even more upset as tears began to stream from Phoenix's eyes, and he sobbed softly into his clenched hands. Red liquid dripped off his neck and hands onto the snow, creating a beautiful contrast of red and white. "Boy..." she screwed up her face, upset, and her eyes glazed over with tears. "Please don't cry!"

"What happened to me?" his voice wasn't unsteady. It was just weak with agony. How could he have done that? For a few moments, he had been unhuman. Like an animal. All he'd wanted was blood... to taste blood... to smell blood... to see blood on his hands... But now, it was perverse. He hated the feeling of it staining him bright crimson, like a murderer. He WASN'T a murderer! He WASN'T! Thinking of that made him cry harder. For in his heart of hearts, Phoenix knew that, truly, he was a murderer. "What... did... you... do... to... me...?" he breathed, face in his hands. The sweet tang of blood was on his lips, but he would not let himself have the ecstasy of the taste. He had to control himself! Gulping back another sob, Phoenix looked at Babette through teary eyes. Babette's heart melted for him- the look of betrayal on his face as he looked at her. She hadn't presumed he'd take it like that. She had to check if he had the evilness, the murder in him to be able to try and kill his own friend... And he had. It had all been careful acting on her part. But seeing his reaction tore her heart in half.

"I'm sorry, I... Phoenix. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." For a moment, there was silence. The same silence that Phoenix had heard only minutes earlier. But then, he lifted his head, and looked at her steadily. "It's fine." he replied. His voice sounded genuine, but Babette could hear the flat, bitter undertones. "Now would you care to tell me WHY you just did that?"

They begun to walk again. And, to Babette's surprise, Phoenix reached for her hand again, and enveloped it in her own. He was strangely warm for a vampire, and Babette, reassured by his physical affection, smiled up at him. But he did not look back down at her- the look on his face was of pure determination. Those few minutes had changed him. And, in his mind, he was thinking hard.

He would be silent. And when he was forced to talk, he would speak slowly, like that. Being an assassin would mean he would have to kill thoughtlessly, like an animal... It would be better if he did not think about what he did. And not talk about it either. His heart ached for Babette, despite her recent betrayal, but, perhaps, maybe he could seperate his life with her from his life with the Brotherhood, although they were intertwined. Soon, he knew, his life would belong to the Dark Brotherhood. His soul to Sithis in the Void. He would be silent, and would just die inside, like he had when he'd become a vampire. He could, then, be able to live with himself.

"Well, I needed to see, before we got to the Brotherhood, if you truly could kill without remorse." Babette began slowly. Honestly, she hadn't enjoyed upsetting Phoenix at all. She'd hated it, in fact. The night-spawn had feelings for him, and was sure what they were. She loved him. Somehow, Babette felt tentative introducing Phoenix to Scarlett (she'd done a similar thing to Silvanus and Astrid and they'd fallen in love and Silvanus had forgotten all about her), and she wondered how he'd take it. Before, she had seen the admiring looks Phoenix had given the Speaker, and how he had admitted his blatant obsession with her... But the way he'd held her, Babette, and told her he loved her... He wouldn't just forget about that, would he, for a pretty, no, beautiful face? Babette knew that Scarlett would never purposely attract Phoenix, as she loved Babette dearly as a best friend and sister, but, like mother like daughter, because she always managed too. And now, she'd done something Phoenix could never forgive. She'd corrupted him.

Up ahead, Babette could see the pile of rocks that covered the Black Door. Nobody who didn't know it was there would be able to see it- it was extremely well obscured. There was still blood stains from where Silvanus had killed Arnbjorn on the rocks, and the vampire girl liked them there. It reminded her of her old Listener and, occasionally, she would go out there and just stare at the deep red marks he had left behind. For a long time, she had pined for him, and seeing him with Astrid or Scarlett was always a dagger in the heart for her... Perhaps, she still loved him, inside. But this boy was her new love, and he commandeered her heart now, not Silvanus. But maybe Phoenix would not love her anymore... She put the thought out of her head. It was just a test! Just to make sure he was up for killing, and Scarlett wouldn't...

"She meant what she said you know. Scarlett." Babette said quietly, as they neared the rocks. "That if you couldn't kill... she'd kill you. She's a demon... Well, not literally. But she's evil. Pure evil. She loves her family, us, but anyone who gets on her bad side..." it was a warning, as well as conversation. Phoenix listened hard. Then, for a few moments, he just watched her. Then, slowly, he said,

"So am I. Evil. So are you. You kill for money, and so will I soon. I promise you, Babette, I will not die."

They continued along. Those words had stung Babette- what did he mean, calling her evil? Perhaps her morals weren't THE best on Nirn, but she wasn't evil, not like Scarlett. She didn't kill other family members, for example, if they couldn't kill. She loved her best friend deeply, and would die for her, but... She took almost too much pleasure in murder. Like Astrid had.

The two of them reached the rocks, and the vampire girl took his arm, signalling him to wait. Crossing around to where the Black Door was, she looked around to make sure nobody apart from the two of them was there, then gestured for him to come forwards and join her. He did so, and stood beside her, staring almost blankly into the door. Secretly, it terrified him. What did she have to do to get in? Bleed herself? Bleed him? He dreaded what evil ritual she would have to perform... The fear must have shown on his face, because she gave him a slightly amused look, and put her fingers around the handle.

Then, Phoenix nearly fell backwards, as a low, dark voice filled his head. It didn't even go through his ears, like real, human voices... It appeared in his head, like a bad dream. For a moment, he was nearly knocked out with the pressure of having something demonic and evil in his head. Then, he made out some words. "What is life's greatest illusion?"

It was like they were being carved into his mind, one by one, causing immense pain as each word appeared... He was dizzy, he was dying, what was going on? And why was Babette just standing there, like everything was normal? He was possessed! He couldn't control himself! He was... he was... "Innocence, my brother." Babette said. And then, the pain receded immediately, and Phoenix was left feeling a little light headed, but otherwise, normal. It took a few seconds for Phoenix to find words, but when he did, he stuttered out, completely forgetting his vow to be a silent, dark assassin, "What the actual fuck was that?"

Babette smirked at his choice of language and twisted her hand on the black door, opening it up. "Black Door. Passphrase. Doesn't hurt so much once you get used to it. Shall we?" and she gestured towards the staircase revealed below. The stairway leading to a group of dangerous assassins, and the sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood. The place where Phoenix, himself, would grow to be an assassin. The youth swallowed, shutting his eyes for one last time. In a way, the Black Door was ironic. Because, truly, his innocence was an illusion. And now, when he entered the hellish place, it would become extinct...

Phoenix smiled. In a way, there was some sort of sick pleasure of losing one's innocence. And so, when his friend held out her hand for him to enter the sanctuary, he only hesitated for a second. His strategy was going through his head over and over again.

Train hard. Be silent. Kill well.

"Train hard, be silent, kill well..." he whispered to himself, so none but his own ears could hear. He was unwilling, suddenly, to shut the door behind him, and stayed, rigid and frozen, at the top of the stairs. Phoenix wanted to run, to escape this place... But at the same time, something in his heart was compelling him to go onwards. To discover what lay within. He felt Babette brush past him to shut the door for him. When it closed softly, with a creak, Phoenix felt well and truly trapped. There was no going back. This was his future. His future was bound in blood. The youth followed his friend downwards, knowing that he was taking the final steps of his innocence. When he spoke to Scarlett, and truly accepted his path in life as an assassin... Then, his innocence would be lost. As he walked down the steps, he silently pondered what his parents would be thinking, from wherever they were. Would they be ashamed? He'd been told that his mother had abandoned him, and his father had been too cowardly to protect him... So they probably wouldn't care. They'd be too busy caring about themselves to notice what he was doing.

What Phoenix, or Lukos, didn't know, was that his parents were doing exactly the opposite. They were not, as he presumed, some whore and a coward. They were the deceased Listener and Mistress of the Dark Brotherhood. And they could not have been more proud that their son was embracing his destiny.

The two children entered a candelit room. It was quite small, with a door leading off it that clearly lead to the rest of the sanctuary. It was a plainly decorated room: a large table with a gigantic map dominated the room, with a few chairs, a small chest of drawers, and a few cases with rather gruesome looking things on them. Banners with the Black Hand on them were hung off the walls. But what impressed Phoenix most of all was the young woman leaning against the wall, giving them both a dark smirk.

"Ah. I've been eagerly awaiting your arrival." her voice gave Phoenix chills. He didn't love or like her in that way, certainly not, but he couldn't help admiring her and having a tiny amount of lust... After all, she was extremely desirable and beautiful. Wasn't he allowed a crush? Despite her stunning looks, it was always her voice that got him. It was like... like poisoned honey. Dark and quiet and gentle... but gentle in the way that an insane murderer croons to you as they stab you in the back. That was the only way that Phoenix could sum her voice up. "I've been bored." she stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, and Babette laughed, moving forward to embrace her leader. Scarlett hugged her back, but her red eyes were firmly on Phoenix. He felt himself blush under her intense gaze.

"Ready to lose your innocence?" Scarlett teased, smiling at him. Phoenix heard the innuendo, and turned brick red, making the woman laugh even more. She shook her head at him, a mocking grin on her face. "Sorry, couldn't help it. Wait a second, I'll find you some armour. We don't do any of that vow shit, I'm sorry to tell you." She got up, and made her way over to the chest of drawers. Pulling it open, she rummaged through the armours. It took her a few moments to find some his size. She threw assorted bits at him, one by one, until he finally had a full set. "There are weapons inside." she thumbed over towards the door. "Don't worry about that."

Then, she walked over to him, and looked down at him with a flirtatious smile on her face. "Remind me of your name?" she purred. Phoenix swallowed, and then, taking care not to stammar, said in a quiet voice, "Phoenix. It's a pleasure."

Scarlett raised her eyebrows, and then, seeing he was being sarcastic, chuckled lightly. "That's good. I like men with a sense of humour."

Babette rolled her eyes to herself. Why did Scarlett always manage to flirt with every single thing wearing trousers? The night-spawn would have sworn the woman would have flirted with her own brother if it came down to it... The funny part was that Scarlett was so childish when not around men, like her mother had been. In fact, the girl spent most of time when not around her kids and men, doing handstands in her room and playing childish pranks on Nazir. Honestly, she was like a different person when she was being "Mistress/Speaker". It amused Babette, nevertheless, and the vampire always appreciated the drama Scarlett managed to cook up. But Phoenix was off limits. She would give her best friend a very, very stern talking to once Phoenix was gone.

"My name is Scarlett, and I am the Speaker and Mistress of this Sanctuary. Well... technically of the Dark Brotherhood, seeing as we only have one sanctuary at the moment. I run this sanctuary. You will come to me for contracts, and if you have a problem with anyone. I'll run through the bullshit quickly. Follow the Five Tenets... Babette will explain to you what they are." she winked at the young vampire, who gave her an evil glare. It was just like Scarlett to offload the boring parts of the job... "If you don't, you'll answer to me. Here's the big question. Can you kill things?"

"Y-Yes." Phoenix found himself stuttering and immediately cursed internally. Why was he always so AWKWARD? "Yes I can kill."

"Good. Come to me when you're ready for your first contract... I'll hope to see you soon."

She gave him one last look, and then went over to the map, where she began to run her finger over it. Every single movement she made both made him terrified and curious... It was something of a relief to feel Babette's soft hand on his shoulder, leading him through into the sanctuary. Babette was safe.

Scarlett was evil.

_!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!_

_IF ANYONE READS HUNGER GAMES, PLEASE APPLY FOR MY SYOT! I'VE ONLY GOT A FEW MORE TO GO... COME ON YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO... ;) HEHEH, RIGHT, TODAY IS TIME FOR VOTING. I HAVE A HARD DECISION FOR SCARLETT'S PAIRING:_

_SCARLETT/XINDAL- THEY GET BACK TOGETHER, AND EVERYONE IS LIKE AWWW, AND SERO GETS TOGETHER WITH MORTAS, _

_OR_

SCARLETT/MORTAS- THEY GET TOGETHER, AND EVERYONE IS LIKE AWWWW, AND SERO AND XINDAL GET TOGETHER

_PLEASE PM ME OR LEAVE IN REVIEWS!_

_Astrid :)_


	10. Welcome Home!

!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!  
Thank you all so much for your concern about the car accident. I'd just like to say that I'm absolutely fine, save for the fact I have a little headache, and thank you to Ozymandeos, Love in Equestria, and Ovan21 for your lovely messages :) I have an impressive bruise that I've been showing off about, but I get hurt a lot so it's pretty common for me to be in hospital. They say I should get a loyalty card ;) Sorry this chapter took so long to get out; I wrote it up by hand in hospital, so I'm just copying it out. Seriously, though, thank you all so much for your patience, your time, and your concern. Ps. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Phoenix is so innocent and naive it's hilarious.

Phoenix felt a sudden chill of icy air overtake him as he entered the underground lair. It was unnaturally cold, underground, and a strange breeze blew through the place although there were no windows. Phoenix had always been slightly claustrophobic, and the damp smell down in the sanctuary didn't help. He felt frightened, like he was entering the belly of the beast. And in a way, he was. There were assassins only inches away from him; Gods, one of them was holding his hand and leading him like a young girl. Like the young girl she appeared to be. Like the young girl she was not.

All of the people he would soon be calling his brothers and sisters had killed, willingly, and for pleasure and money. The youth couldn't imagine how it could be thought as enjoyable: the times he had killed sure, there had been the ecstasy of feeding afterwards, but that was because he was a vampire and couldn't help it. How could all of these living, breathing souls bear to take a life? He pulled his hand out of Babette's grasp, as he felt sweat begin to make the skin slippery. There was no way that he wanted the girl to see that he was afraid- although truthfully, he wanted to bolt right back up the stairs, and out into the cool, fresh air. The lower he got, the more he felt like he wanted to run. It was getting darker, and it occured to Phoenix that the staircase was strangely long. How deep did they have to go, before they got to the main sanctuary? Perhaps they would go on for hours; it felt, to Phoenix, like it had already been centuries. Why had he agreed to this? Shouldn't he have sensed, after feeling the blatant evil that radiated off Scarlett, that he should run and hide and pray they'd let him be? A trickle of sweat dripped down his face, and he wiped it away hurriedly, but found his hands skid off his slippery face. Perhaps vampire's skins weren't as absorbant as human's, he thought, as he dried his hands on his clothes, the armour of the Dark Brotherhood still tucked into the crook of his arm.

Seeing that he'd stopped, Babette turned around and gave him a hesitant smile. The look on his face was anxious, like a rabbit about to be hunted- he was so wide eyed and innocent that the vampire just wanted to suck the life out of him all over again. She felt a twinge of hunger go through her body, looking at that flawless, beautiful face. "Something the matter?" she said, in a voice that seemed far too young and pure for what she truly was. It was almost perverse that such a ruthless, cold-hearted killer could look so adorable on first sight. Phoenix sighed, biting his bottom lip and running a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. Babette noticed beads of perspiration on his brow, either from the long walk downwards (which she doubted considering how fit he was) or from fear... Probably the latter. After all, he had just been initiated into the Dark Brotherhood; not something you tend to take lightly.

"I'm fine." Phoenix replied, standing straight, and lifting his chin with the arrogant pride he had previously lost. "How long till we reach the bottom?" Truthfully, Phoenix rather hoped it would be soon, as it was extremely cold going down the long flight of steps. Maybe it would be warmer once they got to the actual rooms, rather than being as freezing as it currently was. But then again, he wasn't sure if the assassins liked to keep cold. Babette and Scarlett hadn't seemed bothered, so maybe the others wouldn't? "Not long." the girl said shortly. Then, she began walking again, and Phoenix followed her obediently, but not before rolling his eyes. She'd told him it wouldn't be long to the bottom about five minutes ago... how deep had they built the sanctuary? It would be good defence, perhaps, in case the guards found them, but still... It was a pain to walk down.

But it seemed her words held a grain of truth, because only about twenty seconds later, Phoenix saw a bead of light further down. A door, perhaps? Or a torch... no, as they drew closer, the youth heard the sound of laughter and talking. The assassins... they were laughing? Phoenix had presumed the sanctuary would be a dark, sombre place, where everyone skulked around in the shadows, not talked to each other.

"And then I stabbed him through the guts and fed his entrails to the dogs!" a huge burst of laughter met the youth's ears, and he squinted, trying to work out if what he'd just heard was right. The voice, a male one by the sound of it, was joking about killing people, and being very graphic about it, and the others found it amusing? Phoenix wasn't surprised at that. "Blood everywhere, and the guts were practically glistening... You know that sound when you twist somebody's neck for a mercy kill? That beautiful snap that just makes your whole body tingle? I hate mercy killing, I prefer to smash heads in or stab in the neck, but that noise... It's perfect, isn't it? But I prefer the feeling when blood runs down your hands, and you can lick it off..."

Phoenix felt bile rising in his throat. Why was everyone LAUGHING? This person was describing, in great detail, how he'd killed someone, and they thought it was funny? What sort of insane world had he stepped into? His kills had never been like that... he hadn't enjoyed them. They'd been necessary! And these people spoke about ending lives like it was sport? He clenched his fists, determined to stay strong. Whoever his parents were, they must have been true good citizens in life, to give him this sort of reaction... He could deal with killing. But finding pleasure from cold hearted murder? No.

Another voice came from below, and Phoenix was shocked to find that it was a child's voice, and a young one at that. Straining his ears as him and Babette drew ever closer to the door leading to the underground caverns where the assassins were, he listened carefully... A male voice, sounding a few years younger than him, maybe nine or ten. "I can't wait to go out on a proper contract." the voice said enviously. "Mum let's me practice on the torture victims, but it can't be as fun as stalking your prey, can it? And anyway, the people we get in here die too easily. I mean, you put a knife to their throat, make one tiny cut, and they're dead! It's ridicu-" Phoenix could hear the boy struggling with the long word. "Ridic... ridigrious!" he finished triumphantly, and everyone laughed.

"But he's right," a low, brooding voice entered the conversation, and all others fell silent. "Our beautiful mistress doesn't seem to have much of a knack of picking good torture victims." his voice was cool and calculating, and he sounded how Phoenix would originally have presumed an assassin sounded like. The way he said "beautiful" stirred something up in Phoenix. Scarlett was beautiful, but why put it into use like that? He hadn't sounded admiring at all- quite the opposite. The man sounded like he was stirring up a fight. Just at that moment, they reached the door, and Babette pulled it open, leading Phoenix into the sanctuary...

And all heads turned to face them.

There was a huge variety of people there: several children, surprisingly to Phoenix; an Imperial woman with one milky white eye who had a cruel smile on her face, and a plain Nord woman standing next to her looking curious; two Khajiit, a man and a woman, and a tall Argonian woman; an old Redguard with a cynical look on his face standing next to a burly Dunmer man; a gigantic Nord with fists as huge as hams, two strange looking men with milky white skin and strange eyes; and the man who had just spoken, a tall, skinny Imperial with straight brown hair and a neatly cut beard. They were a strange lot, especially the two pale men, but it was the children that alarmed Phoenix most. Five of them, each with a large resemblance to each other, and the youngest only looking about three years old. Phoenix realised that they were Scarlett's children- what with their curly blonde hair, heavily lidded eyes and good looks, they would have to be.

"Ah, Babette. Back with a newcomer." the Redguard spoke first, and Phoenix turned around to look at him, not wanting to take his eyes away from any of them, in the fear that one of them may run and stab him. The grizzled man did not smile, but narrowed his eyes, looking him up and down with world-weary eyes. "A kid, too. What's your name?"

"Phoenix."

There were mutters of recognition, as the assassins made a group around him, analysing him with their eyes. The youth felt remarkably uncomfortable, but felt a twinge of comfort when Babette squeezed his hand. She was still by his side, firmly protecting him against this intimidating crowd. He was scared that they might swallow him up, but they kept a wary distance away from him. Even the children were looking at him in the same way as the others- their green eyes curious at this stranger. What were they going to do to him? Determined not to fuel these people with his fear, he kept his head up high, watching them with his disdainful eyes. Eventually, after a few moments of silence, Nazir crossed his arms and gave him a contemptuous look.

"Well, well, well," he said, in a slightly mocking voice. "If it isn't the Great Phoenix Bird. Why are you so far away from your nest? Migrating?" the assassins chuckled. Phoenix felt a stab of irritation at this rude stranger; who was he to judge? He felt Babette's grip on his hand tighten. He desperately wanted to scream at the old Redguard, but he controlled himself. He certainly wouldn't be making a good start by picking a fight with a more experienced member of the Brotherhood. Gritting his teeth, he made himself smile, darkly. "Nice to meet you too." Phoenix replied. Gently, he took his hand out of Babette's grip, and crossed his arms too, matching the stance of the man in front of him. If this bastard wanted a fight, then he was going to get one... Oddly, some of the assassins laughed at Phoenix's retort. It was a weak one, too, and it hadn't made the Redguard blush at all. But it was clear that the man was slightly annoyed by the response, as he raised his eyebrows.

"Charmed."

That made the group laugh even more. By then, Phoenix knew he wasn't going to win this battle of responses, so shrugged. "Thanks. Err..." the situation turned to awkwardness, at least for him. The group of assassins were still staring at him, their eyes firmly on his. He was used to being looked at by crowds, but this... this was more terrifying than performing in front of thousands. Everyone in this room, possibly save for the younger children, had killed people. And they were looking at him like cat's look at mice. Hungrily. The youth wondered what they planned for him- the strange, predatorial look in all of their faces suggested death or worse. And Babette wasn't even defending him... he wondered if, if he ran up to Scarlett now (who had scared him, but was marginally less scary than this group) she would let him camp out in her office. He was beginning to brace himself to run, when the Khajiit woman stepped forwards, shaking her head. "Honestly, the way the lot of you act, it's like we've never had a new initiate!" Silently, Phoenix thanked her. Thanked her for making the situation so much less awkward. She turned to him, a motherly smile on her face. "Don't pay attention to any of the others. They're all completely insane. I'm Valenta. I'll show you around."

And with that, she took his hand and guided him through the assassins, who parted for her and Phoenix.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Babette made her into Scarlett's office, shaking her head with mirth. The look on Phoenix's face through his "initiation" had been absolutely priceless. The assassins hadn't been any help; they'd treated him like an alien throughout the entire thing. They got new initiates quite a lot, they just tended not to... well... survive very long. And the boy didn't really look like Brotherhood material, what with his looks. But he could kill, she'd seen it herself... He was like a more awkward version of Silvanus.

"Scaaaarleeett?" the girl said. When she didn't get a reply, she walked into the room. "Scaaaaaaarlett?"

The vampire saw her friend leaning over the table, and playfully went to sit on the map over which the woman was poring. For a moment Scarlett kept looking, pretending that Babette was not there as she was wrapped up in planning the next contract, but after Babette had sat there for thirty seconds swinging her legs annoyingly and moving every single marker Scarlett put down, the Speaker was eventually forced to look at her. "Something you need?" the woman said sarcastically. The young vampire just smiled and nodded her head to music inside her mind. So, gritting her teeth, Scarlett tried to continue her work; however, it was ineffective because the girl was sitting on most of it. Arrogantly trying to ignore her friend, the Speaker acted like everything was normal and there wasn't an unchild sitting on her map. Sometimes they played this game, if Babette was in a good mood and Scarlett was trying to work and ignoring her. Then, Babette took it up to a new level by humming. The Speaker clenched her fists, and sighed, before taking a dagger out of her pocket and slamming it with unnecessary force into the paper, marking their next contract. The young vampire started humming Ragnar the Red, Scarlett's least favourite song in Skyrim.

After fourteen verses, horribly out of tune, Scarlett gave in. "Fine, fine! What do you want?" she threw her hands up in the air in exasperation, then grinned. Secretly, she loved being distracted from working, as any other distinctly lazy person does. She desperately wanted to be out spilling blood, but business had been slow, recently, and she'd had to spend most of her time gathering the few contracts she could. Babette smiled, triumphant, and got off the map to lean against the wall where Scarlett almost always was when she was bunking off doing work. "Well..." the unchild blushed, and the Speaker chuckled. "You know... Phoenix?" By Sithis, the woman loved it when Babette liked a boy. It was always a great source of amusement, and she could almost always have fun teasing her friend about it. "Ooh, is Babette is love?" Scarlett teased, sticking out her tongue childishly. Truly, the Speaker (despite having a huge problem with too many bed-partners) had never really grown up. Still had an obsession with sweet-rolls, was terrified of spiders, and cried about her mother late at night. And also mocked her vampire friend mercilessly. "Do you want to marry him?"

Babette squealed, and Scarlett cackled, ducking a blow aimed at her head. "Babette loves Phoenix!" she laughed, pleased to have a chance to be immature in her life full of children, leadership, and sex. "Babette loves Phoenix!" the young vampire girl was hot on her heels as the Speaker ducked under the table, missing a shoe being thrown at her head by inches. "Come back!"

The Speaker raced up the stairs to the Black Door and flung it open, emerging breathless onto the sandy beach. Sprinting along the shoreline, she heard Babette panting behind her and grinned in satisfaction. Even though she was older than she looked, being a vampire, Scarlett could still outrun almost anything. And Babette sadly could not, not with her shorter, slightly chubby, legs. Finally, the woman took pity on her friend and stopped, laughing, and was tackled by the ground where the two of them lay in a giggling heap. But determined to get the last word, the Speaker rolled her head around directly looking at the young vampire, and whispered.

"Babette loves Phoenix."

And got a fist in the face for her trouble.

!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!  
First chapter in ages, sorry if I'm a little rusty, I'll be back up to speed soon. Sorry, wanted to end it on a lighthearted note there, and I really need a laugh at the moment. I wanted to get Scarlett being as childish as I always imagine her (I don't think she was actually shocked, she was making fun of Babette in the 'Babette Loves Phoenix' thing there, and having fun... she's not insane, promise...), and make her and Babette's relationship more prominent. Thank you for reading, and next chapter will be out in a few days :) Astrid xxx


	11. Yet More Trials and Spirits

!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!  
BAN IS GAELIC FOR WHITE, SO YOU KNOW. SORRY, I'VE BEEN LEARNING IT FROM MY GRANDMOTHER AND I COULDN'T HELP GETTING INTO IT. HEH, YOU MIGHT SEE A BIT OF DEATH-NOTE INFLUENCED MATERIAL IN THIS CHAPTER... EXCUSE ME PLEEEASSE

The boy with pure white hair sipped his tea, dipping one, pale finger into the liquid to stir the sugar up from the bottom. The white powder reached the surface, and he smiled, his faded pink lips dragging themselves into a twisted smirk. Everything was wrong with this boy, from his childish features to the dead look in his deep black eyes. Those were the eyes of someone who has seen the world... and the corruption that bites away at it.

He sat in a small room; completely sterile and free of furniture, apart from the small, rickety chair that he sat upon. The white china cup of tea that he held within his small, monkey like hands was full to the brim with steaming tea. Although he'd been drinking it for the last few hours, somehow it was still hot and almost completely full. And that was how he liked it. There were other drinks that the boy preferred to tea, but it was a reasonable substitute for other, more satisfying beverages... Ones that could be drunk straight from the flesh. With a quiet chuckle, he placed the cup on the floor and got to his feet. For a moment, he was unsteady, having not stood for several hours. Then, with a contented sigh, he began to pace the room.

"You should stay still. Don't want to aggravate them." although the voice came out of mid-air, it did not alarm the child. In fact, a look of relaxation came over his face, and a smile warped his features once more. The boy was chilling to see; his smile looked too big for his face. His white hair was totally devoid of colour, and his face was completely white. His black eyes were so dark that you could practically disappear into them, and were far too big for his thin face. He was... not unattractive. But neither was he handsome. "Ban? Do you hear me, boy?"

"I hear you, spirit." Ban replied, and a look of slight annoyance crossed over his face, before being replaced with that same, odd grin. It was like he hadn't quite mastered smiling. "But I don't chose to follow your instructions... They will let me free. And when they do, I'll feast on their quivering remains. I can feel it in my bones." Walking over to the wall, he rested his head against it, and thumped his fist against the plaster. It made a hollow thunk, and Ban realised how thin the walls were. But there was no need for him to escape: he knew that his captors would let him free at some point. However, he turned around when he heard a laugh from nowhere, and narrowed his eyes. "Laughing at me, spirit? Don't think I'll do it? You've seen me kill too many times before... Corrupted my soul, like a maggot does a fresh apple. I can take pleasure from blood on my hands. I can take joy from the look of life draining from eyes. It gives me my happiness to murder, to send souls to you. And if I don't..."

"You'll die too." "Indeed."

They both laughed, the strange boy and the spirit. For a moment, Ban just stood in his cell, laughing maniacally. Then, leaning down, he picked up the tea again, and raised it in a sort of salute, before bringing it to his lips and taking a mouthful. Then, wiping his mouth, his good mood suddenly gone, he tossed the cup across the room. It hit the wall and with a loud smash, shattered into dozens of tiny pieces. A look of fury on Ban's face, he fell to his knees and began gathering the pieces, muttering a strange chant under his breath. The china was cutting his hands, lots of little cuts biting into his skin, and blood began to run freely down his hands, splashing onto the floor. With a groan of ecstasy, he looked down at the red liquid cascading from his cut palms and watched it with crazed hunger. Slowly, he ducked his head to lick the blood away, sighing with pleasure as the sweet taste entered his mouth. Eyes opened wide, he began to mutter in a strange language only he understood; rocking back and forth on his knees as the blood dribbled onto the floor. Blood and tea mixed, creating a strange, reddy brown liquid. Sinking his head to the floor, Ban began to lap it up.

"So perfect..." he whispered into the floor, caressing it with his bloodied hand. Then, suddenly, he sat up, both his face, tongue, and hands bleeding heavily. Impatiently wiping it away, he bared his teeth in an inhuman smile. His eyes flashed red for a mere second, before he grunted in pain, looking down at the shredded flesh of his palms. Shaking his head, Ban wiped them on his white shirt, leaving red marks dragging along it. "What madness consumed me then?" the boy asked nobody in particular, staring in disgust at his blood on the floor. "Sanguine? Or perhaps Sheogarath... Or did my master himself take the time to possess me to drink my own blood?" the last comment was sarcastic, as he went back to sit on the chair, kicking shards of china aside. "Ever since I was summoned, life's been nothing but trouble. Daedra possessing me and making me perform misdeeds for their own amusement..." he was talking to himself by that point, disgusted at the red liquid covering him. "I'm filthy." Ban said, dark eyes glinting. "And I need blood and flesh that isn't my own... Must've been Namira, if she wanted me to consume my own flesh... My own warm, living flesh..."

Feeling a strange hunger come over at him, he looked at his skin with a look of desire. "So pure..." Slowly, he ran his pink tongue across the skin. The slightly sugary taste of his skin made him shudder with delight. Then, realising what he was doing, he looked away with disgust at the spirit being only he could see. "Spirit, who is controlling me?" then, zoning out again, he licked the spot he had before pleasured with his tongue, then sank his teeth into the flesh. With a howl of agony, he spiralled onto the floor, hissing with pain as blood welled up from where he had bitten into his own body. "Bullshit!"

"Crude mortal." the spirit said, but it's voice was not angered. It sounded more amused than anything. Then, Ban, in his whirlwind of pain, heard the snap of fingers. "Leave the poor fool be." and then, the pain instantly disappeared from Ban's pain wracked body. With a sigh of relief, he curled into a little ball, nursing the wounds that covered his body. Whimpering, he nursed himself for a few moments, before staggering to his feet, a token scowl on his face.

"When am I allowed out?" Ban hissed, looking wildly around the plain room, searching for a door. But there wasn't one. With a cry of anger, he threw himself against the wall, making a hollow thud. He could feel the spirit's eyes upon him, as he screamed out, "LET ME OUT!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Phoenix shot out of bed, clutching at the covers. It was pitch black in the sanctuary, and all he could hear was the gentle sound of the other assassins breathing... breathing. Like their contracts do not have the power to do. But he'd been woken for a reason; from the twisted realities of his dreams, a scream had wrenched him back into reality. A high, loud scream... a woman's scream. It hadn't been nearby, it had been muffled... so who had it been? Had one of the assassins snuck out into the torture chamber to do some late night killing? Reaching over to his bedside table, Phoenix found a box of matches and scuffled with it in the dark, eventually coming up with one. Lighting it, he reached onto the floor and pulled up a lamp, which he proceeded to light, then blew the match out. With a weak gleam emanating from the lamp, the youth was able to see his way. Somehow, the scream had frightened him... he wanted to know who it was who had screamed. He was drifting through the realms of sleep and awake, still, and staggered as he went towards the door. Swishing the lamp back into the room, he saw all of the beds were occupied... so who had screamed? He should probably wake Babette... No.

So, stumbling, Phoenix walked out of the bedroom and into the main room where the assassins ate. It wasn't as black in there, but it was unlit and dark. The scream... the Speaker had screamed. It must have been her; unless it was in his imagination, which he was certain it wasn't. Should he wake the others? Perhaps there was an attack on the sanctuary... but he couldn't hear shouting. A nightmare? Maybe he should bring her something... Looking around the room distractedly, Phoenix walked over to the cupboard that held alcohol, and rummaged around in it. Then, with a low chuckle, he took his hand away, as if burned. "Can't drink yet, can I?" he asked himself, before shrugging and pulling out a bottle of something with a dusty sheen and a twisty cork. Then, he pulled two cups from the cupboard and pocketed them. He would give Scarlett the drink... but she wouldn't give a shit if he had something to drink too, would she?

It took Phoenix a while to get up the stairs, as it had before, and it was... it was scarier in the dark. He could just imagine spirits leaping out at him, or skeletons clawing at his feet... he trod carefully, and at every single creak, leapt about a mile in the air. Although he was a vampire and could see reasonably in the dark, this power seemed to have to be activated, somehow, and the boy wasn't quite sure how to do it. Babette had been teaching him how to drink blood effectively without killing, etcetera, but it was all more difficult than it looked. In the two days he'd been in the sanctuary, he'd used up countless torture victims, each dying with many puncture holes all over their pale necks. Babette had laughed, and called him "the worst vampire she had ever seen", but she'd been affectionate as she'd said it. The others were ruthless: Nazir, Mortas, and Xindal, especially, were controlling and when training him, challenged him and disrespected him at every hurdle. Phoenix hadn't seen Scarlett apart from at meal times, and even then he hadn't had the oppurtunity to talk to her. Strangely, he was finding some sort of solace in her company, even if she didn't directly speak to him. She was supposed to be training him, as Speaker and Mistress, but she'd always given the job to others. And it annoyed him, because he desperately seeked her company. Although he had deep feelings for Babette, there was something strange he felt for Scarlett... he was not sure if it was romantic. Intrigued, perhaps, and slightly terrified. But there was an odd feeling of... safety when he was with her. Safety, comfort, and... home?

When he finally reached the top of the stairs, he saw a light flickering in Scarlett's room. Her room was a door that led off from her study, and it was slightly ajar. Phoenix couldn't hear any noise inside, but he could see her shadow through the tiny gap. She was sitting on her bed, with her head in her hands... The youth wasn't sure whether he wanted to go in or not; he wasn't entirely sure that knocking wouldn't cause him instant death. At least he knew his leader wasn't dead, for one thing. He brought up his hand to knock, but at the last second stopped himself with a violent tremor running through his body. It truly was scary, up here, and he wasn't sure whether he should go in or not... whether she'd be angry at him for disturbing her. Phoenix hadn't seen Scarlett angry, yet, and Babette had warned him not to aggravate her himself. According to the young vampire, she was a sight to see when infuriated.

Shutting his eyes and gripping the bottle in one hand hard enough to shatter it, Phoenix brought up his left hand to knock on the door and slowly, he did so. The noise echoed through the dark hallways, making the youth flinch at the sound. His heart beating faster and faster at her silence, he wondered whether he should run away and pretend that nothing had ever happened. He was even bracing himself for a sprint, when a hand curled around the door, and pulled it open. A splash of light illuminated Phoenix, reminding him that, ever since he left his lantern in the room downstairs, he had been walking in complete darkness... Strange. Maybe his vampiric powers were kicking in after all.

Scarlett stood in the doorway, head tilted to one side, a weary smile on her beautiful face. Without her makeup, she looked... younger, to say the least. As she was at that moment, wearing a simple black shift and with her blonde hair completely down and her face slightly pink, she could have passed for a girl of sixteen. Heavy eyelids almost shut, she surveyed him with sleepy eyes. She did not look frightened. But Phoenix certainly felt it.

"Evening, brother." she said companionably, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame. "A little late for a meeting, isn't it?" Scarlett yawned, showing a pink, pointed tongue and sharp incisors. Although she had seemed sweet in this meeting, so far, Phoenix could see the deadliness in her red eyes as she watched him carefully. The yawn had been a threat, that he could tell: showing him her sharp teeth, almost like a challenge. Or perhaps it had just been a yawn. Gods, he wasn't sure at that moment what anything was.

"I... I heard... heard a..." he was stuttering. Fantastic. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he tried again. "I heard a scream, and I came up wondering if you wanted a dri-" he was cut off, as hands found their way round his throat. With a squeak, Phoenix was dragged into the air, off his feet. Then, he was slammed violently against the door frame and held there, feet clean off the floor, struggling like a fish out of water. For a moment, the youth wasn't sure what was going on, as his windpipe was being crushed by strong, practically inhuman hands. A face was centimetres away from his face... pale skin, red eyes, blonde hair... but what was Scarlett doing? Her hands tightened round his throat and with a sadistic smile, she began to strangle him. Stars appeared and disappeared in front of his eyes, as he struggled to scream, but her hands had found his voice box and was squeezing, making it impossible for him to make a sound...

She'd effectively paralysed him.

Fear ran through him; terror, as he tried to kick and found that his legs had gone numb, somehow. As he was a vampire, no blood pounded in his ears, but a low whistling was coming through his ears as he struggled to breathe, struggled for his life... And then she let go of him. Phoenix fell to the floor with a quiet thunk, and nursed his aching neck, finding little marks on his skin where her fingers had dug in enough to mark... Gasping for air, he lay on the floor, staring at her bare feet, inches away from his nose. Then, closing his eyes, he bobbed his head back and forth, wheezing copiously and trying not to die. His whole body HURT; why had she attacked him for no reason? What was going on?

Scarlett knelt down, and the boy felt cool fingers raising his chin. Agonised, he opened his eyes, to see what her own eyes held... Nothing. A blank stare... with a smile? A cruel, twisting smile, with her pink lips slightly parted. She'd attacked him, another member of the Dark Brotherhood, and felt good about it? Then, another thought occured to him. She'd broken a tenet! She'd attacked one of her own brothers... ooh, when he told... Then, he realised something. Who would he tell? Scarlett was the most senior member of the Dark Brotherhood still alive. He couldn't report her to herself. "Why... did... you... DO that?" Phoenix managed to wheeze out, not caring that for his rudeness he may be tortured. She'd tried to kill him! Held him in a strangle hold, paralysed him... then a strange sound met his ears. It was laughter. A quiet chuckle, practically pulsating with darkness and evil. Slowly, Phoenix brought his eyes up to meet her own, and dreaded what she might be thinking. Was she insane? Should he run?

"You, brother," Scarlett said, holding out her hand and grasping his own to raise him to his feet. "Have just failed your first test. Always be ready. You're lucky. You're strong. Some of the other new recruits have died in my little..." she giggled like a schoolgirl. "First test, so to say. Usually, it's pass or die. You are the exception." Phoenix didn't understand. It had all been a test? What? Why were these people, these insane people, constantly testing him? Babette had tested him, and he had sort of passed that one, save for an emotional break down. And now, he'd failed, after being attacked out of the blue by the most talented assassin on Nirn. This HADN'T been the first test; Babette had tested him by encouraging him to attack her. Or was that official?

Mind buzzing, he looked at the woman in front of him with confused eyes. She was crazy; there was nothing else to it. He could see the door, perhaps he could escape... but her sharp eyes were watching him like a hawk, and the youth realised that she would have passed her "test" to always be ready. By the Gods, she was ready. Maybe could even read his mind. The thought unnerved him immensely. As did the cat like smile that followed that thought.

"Don't be upset about it." she said, shrugging and leaning against the wall in a casual pose. It was strange to think that just a few moments ago, she'd been trying to kill him. "You didn't fight me back, which isn't so good, but neither did you die. You're a survivor. I like that." the last sentence came out in a purr. Phoenix swallowed, and wondered if she was flirting with him on purpose to irritate Babette. But Babette wasn't there. So what was she doing? "I wasn't planning to test you tonight, but the oppurtunity raised itself, so I took it." the woman bit her lip, then laughed again. "I'm guessing you woke up because I screamed?"

He nodded the affermative. It wasn't worth lying to her; if he was correct, she could most probably read his mind. "I... I did. I'm sorry. I'll go." why was he suddenly talking in such short sentences, and stuttering, too? He was getting just as crazy as the whole lot of them. Maybe insanity was a catchable disease. But Scarlett shook her head, and, walking across the room, opened the door to her room. Nodding at the bottle and glasses, inexplicably placed on her map table, she grinned.

"If you've got drink, you're always welcome."

It was Phoenix's turn to laugh, as he turned to scoop up the alcohol and glasses, and followed her into her room, kicking the door shut behind him. It was a medium sized room, not the size of the shared dormitory downstairs, with a double bed, wardrobe, desk with a comfortable looking chair, an iron safe with god knows what in it, and several weapon racks. Also, a table and two chairs. Scarlett was lounging in one of them, head tipped to one side, with one leg over the side of the chair. Phoenix went to sit down in the chair opposite, and dropped the bottle and cups on the table. She grinned.  
"What?" he asked, which just made her grin wider. Rolling her eyes, she leaned forwards to an almost uncomfortably close distance, and said, shaking her head,  
"So damn pure." Phoenix frowned. What exactly did she mean by that? By no means was he a virgin, although he'd never had sex willingly, but he was no prude or anything. He would happily take her any day. So why was she calling him "pure" of all words? Her hand reached up to stroke his cheek, and she whispered, "You don't like killing. You don't like the feel of blood on your hands, and your victim's screams. So my question is, brother, why be an assassin?" Scarlett's voice was literally honey. Phoenix could have lapped it up, but he was feeling himself going red. She sensed his discomfort, and with a laugh, leant backwards again to lounge on her seat. BABETTE, Phoenix thought, but he couldn't stop himself lusting after this evil, evil bitch.

Then, she leant forwards again, and poured the wine into the two glasses, taking one for herself and gesturing for him to do the same. Hesitantly, he did so, and took a sip. He barely stopped himself doing a double take. It was strong, heady stuff; the sort of drink you have if you're planning to get drunk. He didn't like the taste, and wanted to spit it back out, but couldn't without looking unprofessional. So he gulped it down, trying his best not to pull a face seeing as she seemed to relish hers.

"So answer my question, Phoenix." she said. Narrowing her eyes, she rocked back and forth on her chair, clearly waiting for an answer. She was becoming impatient, and an impatient, extremely deadly assassin was not what he needed. He pondered for a second, asking himself the same question... why DID he become an assassin? Seemingly unpleased, Scarlett sniffed and shut her eyes, lolling her head back, exposing her neck... the pale flesh there beckoned to him, asking him to bite it, to sink his teeth into it and taste the blood there... He licked his lips. Then, quickly, she opened her eyes with a delighted smile. "So that's the reason!" she grinned, shaking her head with pleasure. "Vampiric bloodlust, want to get blood and get paid... real package, vampiric assassin. But I warn you, I have no blood beating in my veins for you to have, or I'd give it freely. I've poisoned my veins, and any vampire who attempts to take my blood... will die. Follow me."

Putting the glass down on the table, she got to her feet, and walked towards the wall. Intrigued, Phoenix put down his own glass and watched her, a frown on his face. What was she doing?

She was whispering something, strange words that he couldn't quite make out... a dark aura was coming off her, practically visible, as she pressed her hands against the wall and whispered the words... And suddenly, with a heavy thud, the wall began to open. Splitting in two, the wall folded in on itself. Turning around, Scarlett raised her hand, and gestured for him to follow.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!  
First chapter in aaaaaaages! Over 4000 words, so it makes up for it I hope :) I will be updating regularly now my exams/jubilee/EVERYTHING is over. Sorry about the complete lack of updates and lack of updating my profile. I NEED TO DO IT MORE OFTEN!  
Astrid xxx


	12. Contracts and Bloodied Thanes

!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!

FINALLY BACK! PLEASE ENJOY :) ESPECIALLY THE LITTLE CLIFFHANGER AT THE END...

They say the first contract is always the best one.

Two young figures, one a boy one a girl, walked through the streets of Solitude. It was dusk, on a vaguely ordinary day, and few people were around apart from several market stall keepers, packing away their wares after a tired day. It had been scorching hot, and the majority of Solitude's population was indoors, fanning themselves, not used to such heat in Skyrim's usually cold environment.

Oddly, as the two children walked by, the people out in the street felt a strange coldness resonating from them. A breeze, they told themselves, brought on by the quick pace the children were walking... however, there was something unnatural about it. Something that made the people of Solitude feel like all the happiness was being sucked out of them.

"Did Scarlett mention where the contract would be, exactly?" Although the children may have looked remarkably calm, neither one of them felt it. Flustered, irritated, and poised to snap, both of them had been walking around Solitude all day, under cover of heavy drapes and invisibility spells to protect their vampiric skin from the sun.

"No, she didn't, she just said some thane named Bryling, that's all she said, okay?!" Phoenix shot back, trying his best to keep his voice quiet, so not to arouse suspicion... let's say, he wasn't doing fantastically. "If I knew where exactly this Bryling woman was, I would have taken you to her three hours ago, I promise."

They walked along in sullen silence. Babette had suggested several times that they ask after her at the local tavern, but Phoenix was determined to find the woman himself. As his first contract, he didn't want to muck it up by exposing himself.

"You're such a typical boy, never wanting to ask for directions." Babette huffed, crossing her arms and stopping still. Already, after less than a year, the two of them were like an old married couple; could never agree over anything, and yet both loved the other dearly, although neither would readily admit it. It was a point of amusement to everyone else in the sanctuary to watch the two of them battle: at first they had been perfect, but now they were constantly squabbling, and then, when the others mocked them, standing up for each other.

Phoenix stopped too, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, turning around to face her. "For Talos' sake, I'm just being responsible and not wanting to get caught. How d'you think someone would react if I just waltzed up to them and asked," he put on a mockingly slow voice. "Err, hi, do you know where Thane Bryling is? I need to disembowel her for some money."

Snorting, Babette tossed her hair and walked on, so quickly that Phoenix had to run to keep up with her. They headed towards the Blue Palace; that would probably where any self respecting Thane would go. The streets were a little busier down here: full of servants coming home from work, complaining about the terrible day they'd had polishing silverware. Keeping a careful eye out for finery amongst the rags of the servants, Phoenix grabbed Babette by the shoulder and pulled her backwards, towards the Bards College. The two of them climbed up onto the high wall that separated the street from the college, and hoisted themselves onto the top, swinging their legs over. From their new vantage point, the two could see every single head leaving the Blue Palace. This was a more certain way of not missing anyone than stumbling through heavy crowds.

"If nobody comes out, we'll go into the Blue Palace," Babette whispered into her friends ear, careful not to be overheard. "You can put on your whole Phoenix Bird act, and maybe we'll be able to lure her out."

Phoenix nodded, and the two sat there for a while, companionably watching the dozens of staff making their way home. It was a nice evening, with the scent of nightshade in the air, and when Phoenix brought his hand over to clasp Babette's she didn't complain at him, and even rolled her head onto his shoulder.

By the time all the servants had gone, the romantic mood had evaporated a bit. Both were, after their few minutes of calm, infuriated yet again and arguing bitterly. Nobody wearing fine clothes, or with a housecarl, had left the palace; evidently, no thanes had left the building. And that defeated the first part of their plan.

"For Sithis' sake, boy, just go in to the palace, act up the conceited brat acrobat thing, and then we might find this woman!" Babette hissed at him, crossing her arms and glaring at him nastily, pulling a disgusted face. The boy vampire raised his eyebrows at her, shaking his head.

"No way am I going in there and doing that," he replied. "They might know that I killed those people!" then, slowly, Phoenix swallowed remembering the memory of his two best friends lying, blood and intestines splattered all around their mutilated bodies. Putting his face in his hands, he muttered, "I'm not getting arrested just because of your stupid plan, Babette. I don't feel good about killing my two best friends. I want to keep my hood on; I'm not the Phoenix Bird any more, okay?"

There was silence as the two of them sulked, both thinking their own idea was much better than the other's. Honestly, the two of them were a useless partnership: what Scarlett had been thinking, rather than her own amusement, nobody was particularly sure. To be honest, the woman probably had been thinking ONLY of her amusement; she was a good leader, none of them could deny, but she took far too much pleasure at not being the child any more, that she very often ACTED like a small child.

Then, Phoenix snapped his fingers, brought out of his sulk by an idea. "How about, YOU go in there and do your little-girl-lost act? Draw Bryling out, and get her into a secluded place, and I'll stab her to death."

The little vampire girl next to him groaned. "It's supposed to be your contract, boy, not mine. Why don't you do the luring and the stabbing? I'm not supposed to do anything but watch you..."

Phoenix sat in silence for a second, thinking over whether he could goad her into doing it. Slyly watching her, he thought about trying his usual childish manipulative behaviour, then decided against it. His friend generally hit him when he tried that, even though it made most other women swoon for him. With a grunt, the boy got to his feet, and back-flipped off the wall onto the pavement, walking on alone, with a grin on his face. He could never resist showing off in front of girls he liked. A yell from behind him made him turn around, and then he burst out laughing at the sight in front of him.

On the wall, wobbling precariously, was Babette: looking down with fear at the street below. With a cry of laughter, Phoenix watched her struggle to get down. Seeing that he was taking amusement from the situation, Babette scowled at him, and did an extremely rude gesture in his direction. Letting one last chuckle escape his lips, Phoenix strutted back to where Babette was stuck, on top of a high wall, and waved up at her.

"Think I'll do your plan," he said cheerily, pretending not to notice the fact that she was screaming at him to get her down. "I'll go up to the palace and lure her somewhere and stab her... How's the weather up there?"

"FUCK YOU!"

"I'll be back if I don't forget." winking up at her, Phoenix began the walk up to the Blue Palace alone. Although he felt a little bad leaving her up there, she WAS just meant to watch him do the contract and make sure he didn't mess up, and she'd have a fantastic vantage point from the top of the wall. So really, what did she have to complain about?

The Blue Palace was luxurious and Phoenix, who was in no particular hurry (and wanted to annoy Babette as much as possible) took time to admire some of the paintings on the walls. He had absolutely no interest in art, and was possibly the worst and most impatient artist on Nirn, but he could practically still hear Babette raging at him. And anyway, he reasoned with himself, maybe thane Bryling was interested in art? That would be a conversation point before he murdered her.

Eventually, bored, the young vampire walked up a small flight of stairs, and found at the top of them, to his delight, a small throne room with who he presumed to be the Jarl, and several of her thanes standing around her. A pinch of fear hit him, looking at all the guards surrounding them, but then, trying his best to look cool, pulled up his hood. Thinking fast, he decided a façade: he was a servant in Bryling's household (he relied on the woman not knowing any of her servants well enough to not recognise him as one), here to ask her what she wanted for dinner. It was a stupid, thin story, and it was semi possible it would work, but he had a dozen invisibility potions in his pocket if worst came to the worst. Phoenix had never had the best imagination, always being firmly set on reality.

Looking through the thanes he realised with pleasure that only one of them was female: that must be Bryling. Dark hair, and a sharp nose, with a sapphire circlet on her brow, and a kind face... Phoenix wondered what she had done to upset anyone. She looked like a nice lady. Silently, he felt another pang of knowing that what he was doing wasn't right in any world, and that he was now, obviously, evil. It wasn't evil with that fisherman, because he was trying to rape him, but with this murder that was being paid for...

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Phoenix realised that the whole court was looking at him with raised eyebrows. He felt a flush of embarrassment and then, remembering why he was there, said in his best, timid servant voice:

"My master says that Thane Bryling must return to her home immediately, because, umm..." Shit! The plan had gone out of his mind. Phoenix's whole body went tense as he realised that now, he'd done it. WHAT WAS HE GOING TO SAY? His nerves had made him forget everything, like stage fright. The whole court was still staring at him, with Bryling looking particularly confused.

"We're in the middle of court." she said, and her voice was sweet, an older woman's voice. Phoenix, once again, felt a shiver run through him. She sounded like some sort of grandmother, not a person worthy of being killed. "Can't it wait, my boy?"

"I'm afraid I was told you had to come home immediately. Your sister is gravely ill." these words came naturally to him. And, at the face Bryling pulled, Phoenix knew he had done right. Although Bryling could not have had a sister, and he was risking a lot by that sentence, he had clearly said something believable. A look of concern passed onto her face, and she brought her hands to her mouth. Phoenix felt so bad for doing this to her; he was clearly not a born killer, and at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and scream that her sister was fine, and it was all a lie and run for his life. He felt tears prickle at his eyes, and blinked a few times. He would do it. He HAD to do it, if he wanted to impress Babette, and Scarlett, and all of the rest of them... They could do it, so why couldn't he? Steeling himself up, he hung his head, acting the part with gusto.

"I'm sorry, mistress. If you'd come with me, there is a cart ready to bring you to her." Bryling nodded at him, and then, looking at the rest of the court, apologised profusely for leaving. Then, she followed Phoenix out of the door and down the road. It was dark, now, and Phoenix began to feel his fangs itching with the need to sink themselves into the old woman's neck... Good, the bloodlust would make his guilt slightly less severe. This way, he was killing her and drinking her blood to survive, right?

Walking down the street, Phoenix took the back-alleys, turning around and doubling back on himself numerous times, so to confuse her. She clearly didn't know the city that well, and followed him without complaint. Phoenix, having been part of a travelling circus, did not know Solitude particularly well either, but knew it well enough, from several shows there, to navigate his way roughly around.

Eventually, when he'd finally geared himself up to it and the bloodlust was hurting him, he turned around so suddenly that Bryling smashed into him, falling to the floor with a squeak of shock. It was then that Phoenix let the demon inside him awaken.

A tremor ran through the vampire's whole body. Shutting his eyes, he opened them and looked down at the woman who was staring up at him by now, sensing the change... He no longer saw a sweet, kind old lady. He saw his prey, and he could practically sense the blood pulsing in her neck.

"Wha-" she whispered, beginning to crawl backwards as he advanced on her, his new demonic state controlling him. "What is this? Who are you?"

The rational Phoenix, buried deep within him, struggled to get free, to stop the maniacal vampire that was now controlling him; it was the bloodlust that lead him now, as it had several times before, turning him into nothing more than a monster. The new, wicked Phoenix laughed a guttural laugh, from the very depths of his soul.

"Your worst nightmare." and with that, he launched himself at the woman, landing on top of her, with a nasty smile on his face. She began to scream, but he slammed his hand over her mouth with a hiss. He was no longer human; simply animal as he sank his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck. The vampire felt her scream against his hand, and that simply accelerated him as he sucked violently at her veins, uncaring for her pain. Her pain was colossal, he knew, as he tore and ripped crazily at her neck; chunks of her skin and flesh flying everywhere. Phoenix was in ecstasy, letting out loud grunts as the blood went into his system. Bryling, with some fight left in her, bit deep into his palm, illiciting a fierce squeal of pain from him. For a second, he was brought down from his high as he saw the blood dribbling from his hand from the tooth marks she left there. It was a tiny wound, but in his inhuman state, it infuriated him. With a howl of anger, he descended on his victim again, punching her hard in the mouth.

Blood splattered down her chin as his fist, strangely strong, broke several of her teeth; making her bite her tongue hard. Tears wet her cheeks as he returned to drinking from the mess of blood that was once her neck, draining her lifeblood from her with crazed abandon.

And then, his face dripping with blood and gore, Phoenix looked up from her neck, and, bringing his hand to her neck, finished her life gently. Her eyes rolled back into her head, showing her death to him. With a satisfied smile, and a great rush of excitement, he realised his first contract was complete. He'd killed someone, and, thank Sithis, he hadn't been caught.

It was only then that he looked up properly and was brought out of his joy.

A guardsman, with a look of sickened horror on his face, was standing at the other end of the alley, with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Phoenix looked at him, and then, slowly, down at the mess of mutilated flesh that was once Thane Bryling. He gulped. And then, he got up, and the guardsman began to to sprint towards him.

"STOP IN THE NAME OF THE JARL!" the guardsman yelled at him, and Phoenix heard a shudder in his voice. For a second, the young vampire stayed paralysed, realising what he had done and how much trouble he was in, before the reality hit him. Getting to his feet, Phoenix ran, as fast as he possibly could.

He had no idea where he was going, but by Sithis, he had to escape! The mess of alleys was like a mousetrap, and he was a mouse, pursued by a cat with sharp claws... Blood still dribbling down his front, he whimpered in shame and fear as he burst out into the open. He had to get to Babette, had to get to her and then she and him could escape... then he remembered something.

In his pocket were several invisibility potions.

Still running, Phoenix brought one hand up to his pocket and fumbled with the strap. It fell open, and several of the potions smashed to the floor. Swearing, the vampire stamped on them, eliminating the labels that would show the guard what he'd done, and grabbed another. The guard was catching up with him now, and he was beginning to tire: although he was perfectly fit, fear tired him out faster than a thousand miles of running... for the murder of a thane, he would be beheaded! He didn't want to die! Tears pricking at his eyes again, Phoenix desperately yanked at the cork of the bottle to the potion. It wouldn't open! By Sithis, he had five seconds, at most, before the guard was upon him, and he couldn't open the damned bottle!

Sweat pouring down his forehead, Phoenix reached to the floor and picked up a medium sized stone, still running. Tossing it behind him, he heard the guard grunt as it hit him. It wouldn't stop him, Phoenix knew that, but the intent was only to slow the man down, not to stop him. It would give him two or three extra seconds, at most. The cork wouldn't come out! In desperation, Phoenix skidded round the corner onto the main road by the bards college, and smashed the bottle neck against a wall, breaking it off. He then raised the broken glass to his lips, and drank; although the broken glass tore at the skin around his mouth, he didn't care.

He was safe.

Looking down at himself, he saw nothing there, and knew the potion had worked. With a barely stifled cry of joy, Phoenix sidestepped as the guard came running round the corner, a bruise on his face from where the stone had hit him, and sweat running down his face like a pig. The guard looked around furiously, searching for Phoenix, and when nobody was in sight, the man yelled,

"Come out you little devil!"

He was staring right at Phoenix and couldn't see him: very satisfying to know that he couldn't be seen. Phoenix felt a barely irrepressible urge to laugh as the man blundered away in a random direction after "him". After that danger, the relief was like an orgasm. Letting out a relieved breath, the second the guard was out of sight, Phoenix began to walk down the street towards the Bards College. As he had hoped, sure enough, Babette was still sitting on the wall, a scowl on her young face.

The boy wolf whistled at her, and she whipped around, searching for the person who had done so, and seeing nothing. With a thrilled laugh, Phoenix ran up behind the wall and scrambled up it, sitting down next to her. Still searching for the person who had whistled at her, Babette looked up and down the street, increasingly confused. And then, she let out a shriek as Phoenix pressed up close to her side, and whispered,

"What's wrong, Babette? You look like you've seen a ghost."

For a second, Babette looked so terrified that if Phoenix could've remembered that expression forever, he would be eternally laughing. Then, her terror turned to laughter as she recognised his voice.

"By Sithis, boy, you terrified me!" For a second, they both sat there laughing. Then, Babette, reaching in her pocket, pulled out an antidote to the invisibility potion, and handed it to him. Forgetting the fact he was covered in blood, the boy took it, and gulped down the clear liquid. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, as he slowly faded back into view, he turned to smile at her. And saw a strange look on her face.

Babette was staring at him, pupils dilated, and mouth slightly open. It was an odd expression, and Phoenix did not like it. It was very eerie to have someone look at you like that, especially a vampire. They both stayed still, staring at each other; Phoenix did not want to fuel her into doing something, in her strange state, by moving. What had happened to her?

Then, she moved her head forwards, and her tongue flicked out... she licked his cheek slowly, tentatively. Phoenix's whole body went tense. What was she doing? She was licking the blood off his face, now, especially the area around his mouth where he had cut himself on the bottle top. The girl was drinking the blood from a fellow vampire... you can't do that! Didn't it kill you, or make you ill, or... or something?

The vampire girl pulled away quickly, as her eyes and face went back to normal. Suddenly, a look of terror came into her expression, and she cried out... and fell backwards, eyes closed, off the wall. With a yell, Phoenix caught her midriff and pulled her back up... she was limp in his arms. What?!

"Babette!" terrified, Phoenix brought his fingers up to her neck to feel her pulse... before remembering she was a vampire and therefore had no pulse. "Babette!" she wasn't answering. Completely still in his arms, she seemed only to be asleep. But why had it happened to suddenly, after drinking his blood? Phoenix couldn't remember exactly what happened to a vampire after drinking another vampire's blood, Babette had mentioned it, but... Was Babette truly dead?

Leaping down from the wall, with her still in his arms, panicking, he ran towards the city gates and into the outside world. Jumping into the cart, he laid her tenderly to rest on one of the benches, before saying quickly to the cart driver,

"How much to Falkreath? As quickly as possible?"


	13. The Bloodline Curse

Phoenix lurched for the Black Door, sweat running down his forehead. He'd ran all the way from Dawnstar to the sanctuary, and his body was slightly wet from the sea spraying against him where he splashed along the sand. And, in addition to the run, he was carrying a young girl in his arms; her head lolling back at a practically impossible angle, flopping each time he put a foot down on the damp ground.

The boy was far too slim to carry someone that distance, especially when running, and his whole body was wet with perspiration. He wanted to fall down and die; all he wanted to do was drop Babette and flop down on top of her and sleep... But he couldn't. He had to get her back to the sanctuary! Fear was gnawing at him; what had happened to her? The girl was unresponsive, and had been so for a good day and night, and hadn't made any noise... he didn't even know if she'd died, because he couldn't check her pulse!

"Innocence, my brother." Phoenix gasped, struggling to get the words out of his mouth. He had to force out each syllable, so tired and terrified was he. His head was beginning to spin, from the anxiety, and he knew for a fact that he had a minute at most before he fell to the floor. Perhaps he could've made the run, even carrying a body, without trouble... But he was carrying the girl he was in love with, who was currently dying. Even the strongest of souls would've collapsed. And by no means was Phoenix the strongest of souls, so he was doing remarkably well.

"OPEN, DAMMIT!" the door was jammed shut. Kicking it hard, a rush of fury filled him. The pain, the fear and the tiredness was too much, and with a great scream, he kicked the door so hard that his toe made a dull crack. Putting Babette on the floor with not nearly enough tenderness, such was his fury, Phoenix kicked the door again and again, pulling on the handle with each kick, and being rewarded with only a huge pain from his toes. Rolling his head back and letting a great cry to the heavens, the boy pulled again... and fell backwards, as the door opened at great speed, smashing him around the head.

Dazed, the young vampire fell backwards, and the anger vanished from him as he begun to recognise the pain all over his body. Every single muscle ached, and his toes and head felt like they were going to fall off. With a great moan, he finally flopped backwards and lay amongst the bracken outside the door and felt his head spin as he tried to regain himself.

But then, he felt a hand grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and pulling him into the air, completely off his feet. Not ready for the sudden movement, his head rolled backwards, painfully jerking his neck. Head still spinning, Phoenix did not even think to struggle... And only registered fear when a voice, an inhuman voice, whispered,

"What in the name of Sithis have you done to her?!" Then, he was dropped to the ground, without an ounce of caring, and he crashed headlong into the ground as he heard more voices, and saw, in his dizzy state, seemingly endless feet. He began to count them, practically unaware of what he was doing.

"Scarlett, the boy wouldn't have done it, don't-"

"Fuck it, she could be dead! If she's dead I'll tear him to pieces, I swear it!"

"Please, Mistress, just calm down, don't do anything rash..."

"I promise you, she's dead, and I'll do what the hell I want..."

Phoenix could only make out voices, vague outlines, and flashes of colours... a shadow went over him, and a pretty colour dropped over his face... yellow... he reached out a hand to touch it, in his hallucinatory state, and felt a sharp pain in his face. The colour jerked away, and he felt a hand grabbing him by the neck again, although a little more carefully this time, but by no means tenderly.

Propped on his feet, Phoenix swayed unsteadily, only to have hands grab his shoulders and set him upright. For a moment, his head fell back again, as he felt the blood begin to circulate again, and he was brought out of his state of semi-madness. Thoughts and feeling returned to him, and it was then, that he realised that the person who had thrown him to the ground was Scarlett, and the person who was now holding him upright was Valenta, the motherly Khajiit assassin. Blearily, he watched as Scarlett dropped to her knees by the still body of Babette, and started pressing her hands over the girl's face. Phoenix let out a weak cry of indignation at the way the girl was being touched, before remembering what situation they were in, and quieting. He began to shudder, and felt Valenta snake her arms around him to hold him gently.

The Mistress of the Dark Brotherhood turned her head to face him, and he couldn't quite tell what the look on her face was. Cold fury, sympathy, anxiety, and confusion were all there, although he couldn't quite tell which of the emotions was directed at him. All of the assassins surrounding him were silent, sensing the danger emanating from her body.

"What happened to her?" she said, and her voice was cool. She had regained her obvious leadership, but there was still something about the way she looked at him that still reminded him of a predator. Phoenix stuttered something incomprehensible. For a moment, it looked to everyone in attendance that Scarlett might leap up and kill him. But, slowly, they could see something growing in her face. She took a deep breath.

"Alright." she said, and her voice was forcedly calm. "Alright. Let's all take a deep breath. Phoenix, you carried Babette here, correct?"

He nodded the affirmative, and something in her red eyes softened. "She got like this in Solitude?" Phoenix nodded again. "Okay. So what, by Sithis, brought this on? Do you know?"

"I'd just killed the contract, and my face was bloody because I'd had to use an invisibility potion to get away from a guard..." Phoenix stopped for a second to catch his breath. He was now talking unnaturally fast, wanting to get it over with and just... just sleep. "I'd smashed the top off, and the jagged glass cut my face. I also had my contract's blood all over me. Babette saw me and we talked normally, but then..." Phoenix went a little red. "She... umm... well, she got this strange look in her eye, and she licked the blood off my face, including my blood..."

Scarlett's face drained of colour.

Turning back to Babette, the woman began to mutter things under her breath, hands passing several times over the young girl's body. Stopping after a few moments, she swore like a guardsman, and then kept going, determinedly trying to work magic she had no proficiency at. And she grew frantic. The calm, seductive leader was gone, replaced with a frenzied creature, trying to protect it's quarry, determined to do something it couldn't. There was a mad look in her eyes. Eventually, after several turns of her trying, and failing, to do a feat of magic, Amedal, a Dunmer wizard, stepped forwards raising his hands.

"Mistress, do you want me to do it? I know the spell you are attempting, and-"

"NO! Damn it, come near her, and I'll rip you to shreds! All of you get inside, now!" she was frenzied, insane, and even her children, who knew her as their loving, caring mother, backed away at the sight. Quickly, the assassins dispersed, leaving Scarlett and Phoenix alone... The woman was passing her hands over Babette, now, muttering spells old as time itself, and cursing loudly each time it didn't work. Tears, pearly and clear, were rolling down her cheeks as she worked herself to the brink of madness, again and again trying and failing to perform the spell. She knew she was the worst magician possible, but she had to do this... she just had to.

Phoenix watched with blank eyes as Babette lay still under Scarlett's hands, as the woman tried her hardest... and then, she sat back, staring with grief-stricken eyes. Babette lay still, lips slightly parted, flopped at all angles like a rag doll. And then, the woman looked at Phoenix and the tears and agony on her face told him what had happened.

Babette was gone.

A guttural noise came from his throat. It couldn't be happening! She wasn't dead! Stepping forwards, Phoenix fell to his knees and bent his head onto Babette's cold, cold corpse, burying it in her chest, and began to sob. And, through the haze of misery, he could hear Scarlett sobbing too.

Scarlett knew that with Babette's death, things had changed. Especially for her... that was why she'd been so frenzied and insane when the others were trying to touch Babette. Babette was her sire vampire, and with the transferral of her blood to Scarlett's body... life had been transferred too, and that bound the two of them together. If Babette died by drinking another vampire's blood... well, Scarlett had been warned. A curse was laid on that whole bloodline, meaning each and every vampire that first vampire had sired, would go insane... and have to kill themselves by drinking another vampire's blood. Scarlett would have to kill herself in the same way willingly, or would be forced. And she knew that now... now she too would have to die. If only she'd trusted someone else to help Babette! Now her best friend was dead... but at least they'd see each other in the Void. For now, Scarlett would have to die too, and as quickly as possible.

Finally, Scarlett knew how Silvanus must have felt. She was going to die, and Babette was dead. Fear began to bubble up in her stomach, spreading all the way to the tips of her hair, as she gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. THIS was the price she knew she'd have to pay, someday, when she agreed to let Babette bite her... But when it came down to it, she was no way at all ready. Her children... by Sithis.

She would not let herself cry. She would have to die, now, or else insanity overtake her and make her kill herself by force. And Babette... Babette was dead! She wasn't upset for herself, as she would see Babette soon, in the Void, but Phoenix... And then, Scarlett realised something else. She was not the only one Babette had sired...

Phoenix sobbed ever harder into Babette's cold, cold form. Why did she have to be dead?! By Sithis, by Talos, by every God and fucking entity he knew... She was gone, and he would never see her again! He raised his head and screamed to the heavens, clutching, holding at Babette, never wanting to let her go, such was his agony... And then, a voice met his ears. Then, looking up with tear-filled eyes... he knew something was wrong, from the look in the Speaker's face.

"Babette sired you...?" he could tell Scarlett was trying her hardest from breaking into tears again, because her face was pale as a ghosts and there were tear tracks running down her face. He nodded, slowly, not trusting his voice to talk. Then, he buried his face in Babette's stomach and sobbed into her once more, not wanting to listen to Scarlett. They could talk once he was done, for God's sake! And why did she say it in that ominous way, "Babette sired you", what did it matter?!

"Then... oh by Sithis, I wouldn't cry." her voice was now thickened with tears and, looking up at his usually cold, seductive mistress, he saw she was crying once more. "You'll be seeing her soon enough." wait... what? Then, Phoenix got it. Sitting upright, he stared, open mouthed, at Scarlett, whose red eyes said it all.

"I'm... I'm going to die?!" he begun to panic. Standing up, he gaped at her, clenching his fists. She stood up to face him, and the two stared at each other, over Babette's still body. They seemed to be conversing through their eyes, red on red... It was only then that Scarlett noticed the fierce resemblance Phoenix held to herself. For a moment, she forgot about her imminent death, and frowned. He really was the spitting image of her mother and her: the heavily lidded eyes, the thick eyelashes, the pale skin and the wavy corn blond hair... And someone else she knew there, too. Narrow face, delicate features... Silvanus. She grew excited, and through her tears, her mouth gaped in shock. He was the right age to be Lukos, too, and although in personality he did not mirror his parents at all, he... No. Lukos was dead. And anyway, even if this timid little boy WAS Lukos, it didn't matter anymore. He was going to die, just the same as her.

"When a vampire dies by drinking another vampire's blood, there is a curse laid on that whole bloodline." Scarlett said, determinedly trying to forget about the boy's SLIGHT (she told herself) resemblance to her mother and Silvanus; it didn't matter anyway. "The bloodline, which is the vampires a previous vampire sired, and the ones those vampires sired, would have to kill themselves by drinking the blood of another vampire and dying. I don't know how many Babette sired, but they will all go insane and die. You and I... we can die sane... if we wish."

It was then, that Phoenix did the bravest thing in his life. He nodded. "We'll die sane. I'll drink your blood, you'll drink mine... do we have time to say goodbye?"

"No." Scarlett replied, and instantly misery appeared on her face. A tear dropped out of one eye, and splashed onto the already damp sand beneath them. "They... other people in the Brotherhood are aware of the... the curse. They'll tell my children I love them." Phoenix felt a pang in his heart. He didn't know anyone else in the Brotherhood well enough to "love them" (aside from Babette), but Scarlett was leaving her infant children behind, as well as her post as the most senior member of the Brotherhood in Tamriel. There was no Listener.

The woman took a blade from her belt, and held it up to the setting sun. Light flashed off it, reflecting onto Phoenix's slightly enraptured face. She held it up to one wrist, and slashed with a low hiss of pain. Blood immediately began to spill out of the wound, and Phoenix immediately, seeing it, felt an urge to go and lick it off her arm. It was beautiful, the way it splattered onto the ground, and Phoenix (despite knowing that Scarlett was not his Goddess out of dreams) felt a desire to worship her... It was then he realised that this situation mirrored his dreams. He was about to drink the blood of his Goddess... and she his own. Maybe that dream had been foreshadowing to the future?

She then tossed the dagger towards him. Just catching it, he raised it to his wrist... fear tensed his body as he waited for the pain to overcome him, and then, as he slashed quickly, he screamed out in agony. However, the woman was quick to come to him, and held him close, whispering words of comfort into his ear. Closing his eyes, Phoenix forgot that this was the Mistress and Speaker he'd been so attracted to, and pretended she was his mother, in these last moments before death... Then, he heard the words that made him even more afraid.

"Together?"

Scarlett drew away from him and instantly, he missed her form pressing against his own. However, she quickly returned to a slightly more intimate embrace, and despite his love for Babette, he couldn't help slipping his non-bloodied arm around her waist. Inside herself, Scarlett laughed. He was a lot more like Astrid than she'd originally thought. Oddly, she felt slightly unafraid of death. She'd be able to see her mother again, she thought happily, as she took his pale, childish arm in her hand, and raised the wound to her lips as he did the same...

"Scarlett?" a broken, weak voice hit the air. The two vampires froze, stuck for a moment with their blood inches away from each other's lips, and then, they recognised the voice. "Phoenix?"

With cries of joy, the two of them sprang away from each other and turned to see Babette lying there, eyes barely open, but working, and her mouth open as she tried to speak... They flung themselves on her, and tears and blood mixed as the three held each other tightly, sobbing with relief, agony, and total, uninhibited joy. Babette was alive. Scarlett's magic had worked, somehow; not particularly well, or skilfully, but that didn't matter. Babette was ALIVE.

Scarlett grabbed Phoenix's hand and led him to the sea, where the two of them began to wash their wounds, and the red liquid washed away into the seemingly endless water. Quickly, they returned to Babette, and the three of them, who had been inches from the Void only minutes before...

Were alive.

XXXXXXX

_A shadowy figure approached the Night Mother's coffin. It was the middle of the night, and most of the other assassins were sleeping... but not this one. The whites of his eyes gleamed in the pitch black, as he hoisted himself up onto the platform where the coffin stood._

_He fumbled with the lock for a moment, before opening the doors quietly, careful not to make them creak, not wanting to be discovered. A rustling in the corner spooked him; he whipped around... but nothing was there. Heart beating quickly, the man sat down in front of the now open coffin, and put his head in his hands, trying as hard as he could to hear the words that nobody had heard since Silvanus Coppercroft had died..._

_Hours passed, with the figure just sitting there, watching the coffin, trying as hard as he could for words to meet his ears. And then, finally, he let out a cry of happiness as he heard it. After years of trying, he heard it._

_And then, pleased, he snuck away. He would tell them in the morning. And then, finally, he'd get what he'd been waiting for all these years._

_He was the Listener. And nothing could stop him now. _


End file.
